It's Lonely At The Top
by Enigma Hakuteiken
Summary: Harry Potter is one of the most powerful wizards born in centuries and defeated Lord Voldemort as a baby, protecting his twin sister and parents. He grew up in a loving family, and on the surface, he is a very happy boy destined for greatness. Powerful!Harry Gradual Dark!Harry HarryXFleur (Fleur 3 years younger).
1. Chapter 1

I stared at the green quidditch flyer on Ollivander's bench and couldn't stop that memory from resurfacing. My earliest memory. A flash of green light half a shade off from the flyer's, and the cries of a baby who I now knew to be my twin sister, Olivia. There had been a wand too, stark-white and pointed in our general direction, aimed an inch closer to me than her but the memory was murky and fragmented at best. I wasn't perfect. Far from it. No matter how much my tutors seemed to think.

I couldn't recall what happened next but my parents said—they all said—that the baby Harry Potter had singlehandedly defeated Voldemort with a bout of accidental magic. A mere baby had reflected the undeflectable killing curse. Voldemort had died in an instant. The most terrible dark lord of recent times had been reduced to a pile of ash for some reason. No one cared about that little tidbit.

Dumbledore thought I might've lit him on fire. It was the only explanation—a deflection followed by sun-hot fire. Either Olivia or I, and everyone had long concluded it was the latter, especially after Dumbledore's repeated examinations of my memory and magical core. With no doubt, it had been Harry: the boy-who-lived with a magical potential higher than anything recorded in history. Sometimes I wished it was Olivia instead. Sometimes. I wouldn't force such a fate upon her.

I used to enjoy being special, being superior, being Britain's sole saviour and biggest celebrity for over a decade. Not so much anymore. Witches and wizards always looked at me with such awe and wonder, or apprehension and resent. Wherever I go. I'm never alone. When Dad or Sirius weren't available, even my assigned Auror bodyguards couldn't act naturally. Though they tried to hide it, it was always there, just below the surface waiting to make waves if I did something apparently incredible. Like accidental conjuration of water and other basic elements. You would think they'd get used to it after the first year. Apparently not.

If it wasn't for my family and friends, I probably would've left Britain by now. They were the only ones who treated me as just Harry and not the second coming of Merlin. I appreciated that more than I'd let on. It's truly very lonely at the top of the magical potential scale. I had learnt that the hard way.

I also appreciated Olivia for sometimes joining in on the meditative lessons to control my emotions and magic. Basic Occlumency. She didn't have to, of course, but Mum probably had a little chat with her when the lessons started after my fifth birthday. Mind magics was useful. Olivia had grudgingly put up with the boring lessons. She'd clearly wanted to be with the Weasleys instead. She was far better at broom-riding than I. Ordinary in potential, but the only dorky sister I had.

The only sister I'd almost killed by accident.

I swallowed and buried that memory, and cleared my mind of emotions before something bad happened. Terrible things happen when I'm angry or sad.

A gentle, warm weight grasped my left shoulder. "Are you alright, Harry?"

Dumbledore. Of course, he would notice my near loss of control. I turned to face him and nodded, looking into those half-spectacles in front of that ever-kind face. "Yes, sir." I tried to smile but only managed a wonky tug of my cheeks.

He studied me for a good four and a half seconds. "Steady breaths. Remember. Steady breaths." He parted with a matching nod, then rejoined Olivia and my parents. His ornate robes swayed in his gait laced with a dense magical aura. It was like a midday sun of pure magical energy hidden behind dark clouds when suppressed. Most couldn't feel it. They were lucky.

Olivia tested yet another wand with an elegant wave across a tabled filled with objects made of varying materials. The book caught fire with green flames and spread to half the table. She yelped, flinching back and dropping the light-brown wand. "Put it out!"

I huffed. That was the worst one yet. As Ollivander picked up the wand and Dad motioned his own, I lazily brushed my fingers through the smokey air, willing the flames to dim and the objects to repair. I visualised my intent down to the finest details. My fingertips tingled. Strands of glittering magic flowed from the depths of my magical core in my mindscape. The flames were out in under a second. Not a single leaf on that tiny model tree was burned. Easy.

Dumbledore gave me a look of approval. Of course, he had tested me there as usual. He could've put it out with a mere thought. He could light it ablaze again too. He was probably the one wizard in all of Britain who understood me.

Dad chuckled. "Good work."

Olivia took a breath and smirked at me sardonically. "About time. I thought you said you were watching out."

I shrugged. "Got distracted." I swiped the flyer at my side and held it up. "Quidditch match next week. France versus England."

"What? Really?" She bounced straight and hurried over, almost tripping on the edge of a shelf.

Dad and Mum strode to me, a stack of untested boxed wands in her hands. Her green eyes—my eyes—skimmed through the flyer. "This is strange. It says it's an exhibition match for the muggle queen."

It was Ollivander who spoke, cutting off Dumbledore as he opened his mouth. "Yes… Yes… For that new halfblood witch from their royal—"

Dumbledore cleared his throat. "I do believe that is confidential, Garrick."

He was going to say, 'royal family'. I had read up on the muggle world once or twice in the manor library. It was fairly interesting. I still couldn't believe how they could all live without magic but they did. All thanks to their 'technology'. Sometimes I imagined myself losing my magic. It'd be an easier life, living like them.

Okay, maybe not. I'd be insane to want to lose my magic. Especially mine. I'm not insane.

Ollivander sheepishly gave his apologies. Mum, Dad, and Olivia promised to not let that tidbit slip before testing wands again. Dad and Olivia jabbered about quidditch and the match. They couldn't help themselves.

Twenty minutes later, another stack of wands waved by and Olivia still hadn't found hers. I sighed, not because I was tired of putting out smaller fires and fixing the objects, but because Dumbledore and Ollivander had promised me something special that'd help control my magic. They'd even taken my blood after touching boxes of various wand materials, and my parent's signatures for the ministry. It was required for custom-made wands.

"I heard that," Olivia said. Her matching green eyes flicked to me.

I grinned. "Heard what?"

She sighed dramatically as she tested the next wand without looking. The tree model caught fire again. "Your sigh, Mr. I'm so powerful I don't even need a wand like the rest of us."

"Yeah. That's me alright." I put it out without waving my fingers this time. It took considerably more concentration, a far lager pull on my magical core. My face didn't relax till the tree was slowly repaired.

Mum raised a brow. "You didn't use your fingers that time. When did you manage that?"

"A few weeks ago."

She smiled. "That's amazing."

Dad whistled. "Second coming of Merli—"

I pointed at him and unleashed one of my signature moves, a jet of ice-cold water straight at his goofy grin. I'd practiced that one enough times that it was second-nature.

A chorus of mirth erupted in the shop at that and I meekly joined in. Dad usually would pull out his wand and we'd have a waterfight but the look on Ollivander's face suggested dire consequences. Mum merely stepped away and shook her head. I cleaned up the water while they resumed testing.

"Patience is a virtue, Harry," Dumbledore said from a back-shelf, strolling towards me with a stack of three in his arms. "The longer one waits, the better it is in the end."

I wondered why he didn't just levitate them with a thought but I understood a second later. He'd mentioned it in passing almost every other lesson. One's magic and health were deeply twined. And one's health couldn't be maintained with just magic. That's why Mum and Dad had dragged me to all those pain-filled quidditch practices with Olivia. "Yes, sir, " I finally said.

But I really wanted to say, 'come on, just give me my wand. I know you already have it.'

"Please, try these. I do believe I have a hunch." Dumbledore placed the three next to Olivia. The box in the middle was old and dusty and torn at the corners. The other two were neither new or old.

Ollivander's neck craned over the three. "Hmmm… horntail heartstring and vine… unicorn hair and vine… phoenix feather and…" He looked up at Dumbledore. "Holly."

My parents went quiet at the mention of the last wand. Dad shoved the stack he was bringing back onto a shelf, then silently pulled Dumbledore to the side; however, my sister was oblivious and was already testing the first of the three. She waved it at the miniature scarecrow and sliced the thing in half. I fixed it without taking my focus away from the adults, who were now murmuring among themselves.

Olivia took hold of the wand which I assumed to be phoenix feather and holly—the one from the old, weathered box. It was ordinary, dark brown and carved from a single piece of wood. The handle was plain and the wand itself was simple and bit rough near the handle. It didn't look like the wand of a future mass murderer. Why were they so concerned? Though admittedly, I didn't know much about wands.

As she waved, catching the adults' attention, I felt a maelstrom of magical energy swirl around my sister. Like warm wind filled with life and happiness. But it vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. "Found it!" She jumped on the spot, holding the wand high like a sword.

Finally. About time. That had taken hours. Why didn't Dumbledore have his hunch earlier, for Merlin's sake?

"Curious," Ollivander breathed, approaching cautiously. "Very curious."

Dumbledore looked at me, then back at Olivia. My parents looked quite troubled. Mum scowled heavily and Dad simply scratched his head, his features twisting. "Maybe it's just a coincidence?" he blurted.

I frowned in confusion as Olivia finally noticed something was up. "Huh? What's wrong?" she asked.

Mum rushed to her side. "It's alright, honey. It's just that this particular wand is the brother of he—" She cringed as her voice hitched, then visibly swallowed. Her aura flared unstably, far too weak for anyone to notice save for Dumbledore and I.

Ollivander continued for her. "I remember every wand I've ever sold, Ms Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather—just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother—why, its brother almost took the life of your brother."

As the meaning sank in, I couldn't help but smile at the notion of my dork of a sister becoming the next dark lord—even if Dumbledore and my parents appeared to believe the next iteration of Voldemort was standing in front of them. It had to be just a coincidence like Dad had said. "Don't worry, everyone," I said lightly. "The boy-who-lived will make sure Olivia doesn't become the next dark lord."

The tension shattered. Dad burst into hearty guffaws. Olivia's eye twitched and her wand twirled in a spiral pattern I'd seen her practice with the training wands back at home. "Flipendo!"

Deflecting the jinx with a snap of my wrist, I returned fire with a smaller jet of icy water as she ducked for cover. Our usual duel broke out and the adults were wise to not interfere.


	2. Chapter 2

Mum broke up our duel after only seven water jets and ten jinxes, and I took note that Dumbledore was still deep in thought. His usual kind of whimsical demeanour was gone and replaced by an almost troubled look. I couldn't catch where his eyes were focused on; the morning sun filtering through the shop windows shone on his spectacles.

Had he not actually wanted Olivia to receive that wand? Was a brother wand really that bad? The questions bubbled as I helped Mum dry the shop, and while Dad fixed Olivia's end of the mess. Two shelves had toppled over. Maybe we'd pushed it a bit. Her flipping and tripping jinxes were really good. Each one held a potent bolt of magic that'd probably leave me with bruises if they caught me off-guard.

Olivia smugly twirled her new wand between her fingers. "Almost gotcha. Let more of your magic loose next time. I think I can handle it." Her comment had nearly wafted into one ear and out the other.

I finally decided it wasn't that big of a deal. Voldemort was gone—a pile of ash scattered throughout the remains of that small old house. It didn't matter if Olivia's wand shared something similar with his. So why was everyone freaking out and secretive? I resisted a scowl, waiting, thinking, not able to come up with anything logical.

The shop was almost back in order, Mum and Dad displaying impressive wordless magic. Olivia said something again. Dumbledore stroked his beard once. Ollivander…

Where did he sneak off to?

"Hey." Olivia clicked her fingers. "You in there?"

I nodded. "Just thinking."

"About what?"

I whispered, "Your wand. Didn't seem like Dumbledore thought his hunch would be right. Or that he didn't want it to be."

She cut him a cautious glance. "Hm… You don't think he really thinks I'm going to be a dark witch, do you?"

"Of course not."

"Then what—"

Dumbledore and my parents apparently heard our exchange, their combined attention snapping to us. They made their way around the table, and avoided a small puddle which I willed out of existence a second later. Dumbledore said, "The future is inherently unclear, even to the best of diviners. I would be lying if I said I know whether you will fall into darkness."

"Then what was with the looks?" Olivia asked. "Is it that bad my wand is like you-know-who's?"

Dumbledore exhaled. "I don't know, Olivia. I don't know."

"Then why are you all so worried? I tried, though not expecting a straight answer.

Mum's face pinched in thought. "It's bad luck. And brother wands have some special magical laws."

"Like what?" Olivia asked.

"Don't worry," Dad said, "You'll both learn all about it in due time."

"Yes, wand lore is covered in detail in the Hogwarts curriculum." Dumbledore's bushy eyebrows lifted. "We can't spoil it all, can we, James, Lily?"

Dad smirked. "No, professor, we can't."

"Trust us, okay?" Mum rubbed Olivia's arm. "We'll tell you one day."

Olivia wilted a tiny bit. "Kay…"

I grumbled under my breath and looked away. They'd always kept a lot of things from my sister and I. Details about the war. Questions regarding more advanced spells and potions and such. They'd almost always sidestepped because we were just children, not old enough. Though I hadn't felt like a child since…

I couldn't remember. Like Remus and Dumbledore and Snape had said, those basic Occlumency lessons matured our minds rather well. Though we were mentally thirteen or fourteen now, they treated us like Weasley kids most of the time. I couldn't help but feel annoyed. There'd been countless accidents. None too serious except a few.

Especially that terrible day… There had been so much blood. Olivia's blood. Olivia's screams.

Oh no. I couldn't stop myself. I focused on my training but it was no use—too late. And in my mad attempt to sink that memory with magic, I found the room spinning and myself sucked into my mindscape, into my worst memories. Broken bones, shattered glass, raging fires, and icy floods. And much, much more. So many injuries. So many accidents.

Then the worst of them all spun into sight in a blur. I had been angry that day. Blood-boiling angry. All over a silly, silly reason.

My ears rang with an unending high-pitched screech. A fountain of crimson sprayed my face and robes. Her body crumpled onto the tall grass. The worst part was the nauseating copper and rust stench. I'd never forgotten that overwhelming fume. I had done that to her. It was all my fault. I felt my knuckles crack.

Suddenly, I was pulled out of my mindscape.

"Harry," my Dad said with deep authority, cutting through just as my chest thumped thrice in quick succession.

Then a flare of Dumbledore's magical aura engulfed me like a blazing fire. "Calm down, Harry."

I tensed my body and pulled back my raging magic. I forced my demons back into my mindscape, then surveyed the damage. Ice this time. The windows were coated with frost. Not too bad. It could much, much worse. "Sorry," I said weakly, then continued my slow breaths. I wiped my mindscape of that memory—strengthened the walls holding my magical core—till the temperature returned to normal.

Wands were out, protective, cutting me off from Olivia and Mum by the door. She was peeking from behind Mum's back. The slight fear seeping from her eyes was haunting. "I'm sorry," I said again to her more than the others. "I had another flashback of that day. I let my Occlumency slip."

She nodded in an instant. "I know." Her tone was soft. "Just keep a safe distance till you're okay."

I swallowed and tore my gaze from hers. There wasn't anything more to be said. It was the standard routine whenever I lost control. She'd claimed she got used to it years back, but her pale face betrayed her. I could only apologise and work on my Occlumency.

The adults kept steady and watched me with heavy looks. Mum's was the worst. Not fear, fortunately, but intense worry and concern, her lips tight and facial muscles trembling. All because of me. Maybe I should lose my ridiculous, cursed magic or at least most of it. It'd be an easier life.

"Deep breaths. Clear your mindscape. In and out," she said. "You can do it like always."

"It's alright, son," Dad followed up. "Take it slow. We're always here for you."

I nodded after too long of a hesitation. Their reassurance was somewhat helpful at best. I mean, what else would they say? "Thanks… Mum, Dad." I kept on breathing and emptying myself of emotions. I visualised a dense pine forest and nothing else, losing myself in the greenery—one of my crutches.

The seconds passed till the minutes flowed one after another. The trees were endless. I could live in a forest like this. A simpler, easier life out in the woods. Alone. Maybe I'll build a cabin one day out in the countryside. I closed myself off to all negative emotion, willing it so with my magic, till my heart was beating steadily. I kept at it for longer just in case.

"Quite frightening indeed, Mr Potter," Ollivander's croaky voice loudly cut in from the left, startling me.

My eyelids yanked open as I reeled, my shoes scuffing on the old floorboards. The old wandmaker stood in the doorway to the back room with a shiny black box in his hands.

My wand!

Now that was something which would absolutely help control my magic. I almost skipped on my approach. A light giggle floated from behind but I didn't care. My wand was here. Every young wizard's dream—receiving their wand on their eleventh birthday. And not just any other wand too but my specially crafted wand.

It had taken days to test my magic against all those wood and core types—hundreds of boxes containing materials fetched from all over the world. My magic had reacted well to several cores early on, but Ollivander had kept on going for some reason. And that wasn't even mentioning all the ministry paperwork for my extra special whatever it was. Made with my blood of all things. It had to be risque magic.

Ollivander chuckled. "Ah, the young prodigy, the second coming of Merlin himself, the vanquisher of the dark lor—"

I held out my palm. "Just give me my wand," I said, then tacked on, "Please." I had really, really grown to hate all those titles. They were truly meaningless. I couldn't even protect my own sister from myself. Such a prodigy indeed.

"Mmmm!" He grinned. "Ever so eager… So, so eager."

As he unlocked the case, someone touched my arm. I exasperatedly twisted my neck around and found my Dad crouching at my side. Olivia and Mum were just behind, little grins on their similar features. I could feel Dumbledore's churning aura to my right. Was that nervousness or excitement?

Dad took hold of my shoulder. "Harry."

By his tone, this sounded like one of those serious father-son talks. I stopped myself from rolling my eyes but a bit of it slipped.

He smirked and rustled my hair. The warm contact was nice, I had to admit. But it was still annoying as hell so I slapped his hand away. "Get on with it."

He eyed me for a good two seconds, then took a breath. "You will find that with this wand—especially this wand which has been tailored specifically for your use—that magic will come easier ever before after you master it. Your control, power, everything." He chucked three breaths. "The blood ritual caused quite the stir at the ministry."

"Blood ritual?" I blurted. "Isn't that dark ma—"

"No, no, no," he quickly said, shaking his head with each word. "This particular ritual isn't dark but just… a bit taboo and highly regulated. It basically makes your wand more yours. You'll learn more about it in your defence classes."

Mum nodded once. "It only works with the blood of a powerful witch or wizard. It's done more often in Russia and China mostly."

Ollivander added, "And Egypt, Brazil, Hungary, Transylvania, France—"

Dad waved him off and Olivia threw him a sheepish look.

"Yes, quite taboo in Britain indeed," Dumbledore said. "To forcibly bind a wand. Useful, but potentially dangerous if done incorrectly. I can't recall the last time…" He looked like he was about to say more, leaving out something important.

I mentally shrugged. It was fairly interesting, I guessed, but I wanted my wand without delay. "That's sweet. So can I get my wa—"

Dad chuckled. "However, there's a bit of a side effect. It might be a bit harder to master than usual." His head swayed left and right. He looked at Ollivander and I followed his gaze. A lukewarm feeling settled in my stomach.

"Behold, Mr Potter. Elder, Thestral tail hair infused with your own blood and magic, twelve inches. Fairly inflexible and highly temperamental at times. Straightforward to control, incredibly difficult to master." Ollivander opened the velvet-lined case. Dense magical energy that was unique yet strangely familiar buffered my glasses.

I could feel my own magic radiating off the greyish, light-brown wood. The handle was ornate but the wand itself was nothing but straight and simple, even rough in some areas, unpolished, remarkably average and plain. I liked that. Part of me assumed it would look like Dumbledore's overly decorated thing. This, however, was a nice surprise.

I took it in a heartbeat and the reaction was instantaneous. My fingers buzzed with magic. My power sang from within the depths of my mindscape. At the corners of my sight, my family and Ollivander stepped back while Dumbledore looked at me with a peculiar twinkle in his eyes. Just what was the old wizard hiding?


	3. Chapter 3

In my palm, the subtle tingle of my bond with the wand was ever-present, a tiny thread of magic linking myself to it. A focus of my power. It felt like a strange, void-ridden extension of my hand thanks to the blood ritual. But I could be wrong. I didn't know much about rituals. The dark section of the manor library was behind several layers of wards and locks. Sometimes I wanted to read those books just out of curiosity.

"Well?" Olivia said as I kept on staring blankly at my wand. "Are you going to test it?"

I pointed at the little model tree. "Fli—" I abruptly cut off the flow of magic, shaking my head. "Not here. Just in case." Ollivander had said this wand could be very temperamental at times.

"A good thought," Dumbledore said, "but I would like to see, Harry, if I may ask of you."

He was just being polite, of course. I didn't actually have a choice there. There was a reason Dumbledore had came with us: to make sure there wouldn't be any accidents.

As Mum pulled Olivia back to a safe distance again, Dad and Dumbledore stood at the ready with their wands in defensive positions. "Kay, ready," Olivia said.

I raised my right arm and visualised my intent once more. Just a quick half-spin of the model, no more. I made the necessary spiral pattern. "Flipendo." I manually pushed a few wisps of my magic into the wand to test it at first, just in case, feeding it a pinprick spark one by—

The wand suddenly emanated a feeling of irritation, then drew a small trickle from my magical core, and I almost broke into a panic—before the model twitched once. Then twice. Then dropped still. The magic subsided. My pulse thudded up my neck and throbbed in my skull.

It worked. "The wand worked! It's incredible!"

My parents beamed at me. Olivia looked confused for a second before comprehension dawned upon her. "Again!" Dad said. "Let your magic loose this time." He slapped my back.

After a moment, I strongly said, "Right." I twirled my wand, upping my intent, letting it do most of the magical work instead. "Flipendo!" I tensed for disaster. I didn't trust this piece of wood—yet.

A torrent of magical energy rushed into my hand in an intricate pattern. The pot lifted off the table half an inch and did a half-spin, then plopped back down. Nothing more. Almost exactly as I'd imagined. My control was magically perfect. Straightforward to control, just as Ollivander had said. I let out a hot breath.

Thank Merlin.

Dumbledore did his signature polite clap. "Expertly done. Two points for your future house—if I remember." A nearly invisible smirk stretched his lips.

"Thank you, sir." The words were truly genuine. Spells were so much easier with this tailored wand, unlike the training wands and even Dad's wand back at home. Elder wood, Thestral tail hair, and a blood ritual, was it? I scribbled a mental note to read up on those two wand materials, and thank a Thestral in person, whatever they were.

"It is no trouble at all, my boy." Dumbledore patted my arm. "No trouble at all." He turned after a final praising look and pulled my Dad to the side. Mum and Ollivander joined them. They spoke with muffled voices and without expression as usual.

I didn't mind the secrecy this time. How could I when I had just received a wand like this? I'd never again hurt anyone again while doing magic—as long as my Occlumency stayed solid. My family and friends were finally safe. Or safer at least.

Olivia huffed. "I bet you're feeling like the ruler of the world right now." The dork was smug. She leaned against the front bench and her arms were folded lazily.

I returned the grin. "Definitely."

She walked to me, a bit slowly, then lifted her wand. "But you still can't notice when you've broken your glasses." She pointed by my right eye. "Oculus Reparo." The hinge snapped back into place.

"Thanks," I mumbled and nudged her side, brushing off the slight embarrassment.

She softly punched my upper-arm. "So no more accidents?" Her tone was too casual for the question.

"No more accidents."

"Right." She giggled and I resisted an urge to water her down.

Okay, maybe a little watering down. I discretely pointed my wand at her, and with maximum care, I flung a squirt of icy water.

She twisted out of the way. "Too slow!" Her wand flatly swished in the pattern for the tripping jinx. "Offe—"

A loudish crack echoed off the walls. I reeled and found that Dumbledore had disappeared. Apparition: the incredibly convenient transportation method I had always wanted to learn. I bet I could Apparate. The concept was simple and the magic required was minuscule. I'd be proficient within a few hours. Especially with my new wand.

"Don't even try it," Mum said, reading my expression easily. We had this conversation many times. "Not till you're fourteen at least. And that's being generous."

"But—"

"No buts." Dad shot me a look that meant serious business. "It's too dangerous. Especially your magic."

Ollivander nodded along and Olivia poked my ribs. "They're right," she said. "And you just want to learn because you're too lazy to walk." The manor was very big.

I grumbled for a few breaths and deflated. They had me cornered. I needed an adult supervisor in case of splinching. "Fine," I mumbled.

"Promise?" Mum asked even though I had promised before.

"I promise."

Dad held up his index finger for a second, his left eyebrow raised. "Don't try anything else dangerous either. Don't let the wand get to your head."

For Melin's sake! It's not like I was some dark wizard. But he was right as usual. "I won't."

"Good. Keep cautious and you'll be the second coming of Merlin in no time."

I rolled my eyes as Olivia laughed at my plight. Sometimes I really wished it was her instead. I could tease her to the world's end.

While I chatted with Olivia about our shopping lists, Hogwarts, and the upcoming quidditch match I was barely interested in, Dad paid for both wands and didn't balk for a fraction of a second at Ollivander's ridiculous price for a custom craft. Seven Galleons for hers and over three hundred and fifty for mine. The Weasley kids would likely explode at that. The twins wanted gold for their unending stream of quirky inventions. I'd usually fund them with my monthly allowance.

The Potters were an ancient and noble family, rich beyond imagination, more powerful than you would think on first impressions. I didn't need more strength (magically). I hadn't asked about our family magic since I was a child. Not once. Olivia was highly interested, however, and had asked Dad thousands of times now. He'd always given the typical 'not till you're thirteen' answer. Fair enough.

We said our goodbyes and left the shop, and I slipped my wand into the wand-pocket most robes had. Olivia took the cases and stashed them in her magically enhanced muggle-styled backpack. She'd watched a muggle-made moving picture with Mum and Sirius once and had thought they looked rather nice. I agreed—somewhat. The thing was large and cumbersome.

As soon as we stepped out of the shop's privacy wards for the appointment, witches and wizards instantly recognised us. Everyone down to the children. The looks and approaches just wouldn't stop, and few shadier characters flicked us glares. Was that a Vampire? I said little and waved them off. Dad acted as a beacon of boisterous authority to draw attention off me. It was routine; it was my life; it was suffocating. That cabin in the woods was very attractive right now.

Olivia took my hand. "Ignore the numbskulls. Don't worry. They'll teach us invis spells soon."

"Yeah," I breathed, squeezing her delicate fingers for a heartbeat. I focused on my Occlumency and let my legs trudge on the cobbled ground until we reached the potions shop.


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N previous chapters edited for grammar/spelling/etc. Pls review! All comments appreciated!**

I noticed the aura of an undercover Auror tailing us as we arrived at the potions shop. Others should be nearby too, disguised with glamours—high level charms that were exceedingly difficult to cast and maintain for extended periods of time, according to a charms book I'd read last year. Aurors had stuck to me in public ever since that first Death Eater incident. It rarely happened but always could. Constant vigilance.

I inhaled a lungful of bitter air and stepped through the familiar entrance. I caught a whiff of Enchanted Vanilla Powder. I liked that smell. It was a key ingredient for the Dreamless Sleep Draught. One of the few potions I knew. They ensured I didn't have bouts of accidental magic in my sleep. Taken every night in small doses, of course. I looked forward to learning how to brew it in the coming months.

I had asked Snape to include it in the curriculum even though it was technically a difficult second-year recipe. The regular Sleeping Draught was far simpler. Hopefully, he agrees to include it for me, or at least give me extra lessons. I had been a good student when he'd filled in for the Occlumency lessons. He was a decent teacher, though not at first. And Dad hadn't shut up about it for weeks. They'd hated each other during their Hogwarts days or something.

And Mum… I wasn't sure what her issue had been but she'd gotten used to Snape's occasional presence at the manor eventually, and even warmed up to the grim guy. Uncannily so. Maybe they were having an affair, I dared to think. I didn't know what something like that would do to Dad and Olivia. I just hoped it wasn't the case. Or maybe I should just worry about things less like everyone always had said.

I was abruptly pulled forward.

"You're blocking the entrance," Mum said with a bit of annoyance. "We don't have an appointment here, if you're wondering."

Oh. Right. Ollivander had agreed to an appointment only because he had one or two customers each day on average. As for the potions shop… not so much. "Sorry," I mumbled and moved out of the way to let a pair of healer witches pass.

A kid pointed and almost shouted my name. Fortunately, his own parents grabbed him, then exchanged a few words with my Dad. He signed a book on my behalf. We hurried away before others caught on that an impromptu autograph session had taken place. Jeez.

We stopped by an aisle of vials and flasks and other glass containers by the front counters. I knew what was coming next. We needed to buy and contribute ingredients instead of simply paying a fee this year. My list contained over twenty powders and insects while Olivia merely had frog and bird parts. They'd rearranged the shop into a maze just for this. Mum and Snape thought it'd encourage students to be less wasteful. A decent idea.

"Alright, Harry, Olivia," Dad said and clasped his hand together. "This is where we part. Good luck on the hunt. We'll get your equipment. Meet you back here."

"If you get into trouble, which you won't," Mum said, subtly nudging her head towards the nearest undercover Auror, "you'll know that help is always near."

I nodded. "Kay. It'll take a bit though. My list is long."

"A challenge just for you."

Dad said, grinning widely, "For the second coming of—"

"We'll be good," Olivia said and grabbed my arm. "I saw frog parts are over there." She pulled me away before I could pluck my from my robe pocket and blast Dad with water. Maybe mud that time.

I kept my wand out just in case. This was one of the few times we were alone in public without someone actively nearby. The Aurors were extremely stealthy. Some bugger could easily get the wrong idea. I sighed and retrieved my list. "How long's yours?"

"Six items. Spotted blue frog legs first."

Unfair. This wasn't a challenge. It was menial elf work. I cooled my simmering annoyance while we combed through the jars and trays. Powdered fish parts littered the floorboards.

"Lost in thought again back at the door?" Olivia quipped as she peeked into a jar.

"Yup."

"About what?"

I debated for a moment on whether to tell her. It was such an unimportant, stray thought. "You don't think Mum and Snape are having an affair, do you?"

Her eyebrows zipped up her forehead. "Could be possible," she whispered back.

Okay. Maybe I wasn't a worried idiot. "Why do you think that?"

She frowned. "Don't you know?"

"Know what?"

"They were really close friends since childhood but he joined the Death Eaters—"

"What?" My magical core pulsated, threatening my Occlumency. I'd been alone with a death Death Eater countless times?! "Are you su—"

Olivia whispered in a rush, "Yes, I'm sure. I overheard Mum and Dumbledore. Sorry, I didn't get a chance to tell you and forgot. He betrayed them and became a spy when you-know-who started targeting us. Dumbledore hinted that it was because Snape loves mum in that way. I think he still might."

"Oh," was all I could say. My mindscape spun at the revelations. I had to reinforce my walls so my magic wouldn't go berserk.

"Yeah. Oh. You know how Dumbledore is with the power of love and all." She made a gagging noise.

"Yeah. No stronger magic." I sensed a shiver close to breaking out. "Apparently. I haven't felt such magic yet."

She huffed. "Neither. Tell me when you do—with that super duper magical energy sense of yours."

My nose wrinkled. "Will do." She'd always go there. She couldn't feel magic like me. Couldn't manipulate her magical core in her mindscape as well.

"So you don't think Snape could betray her again?" I needed to ask.

"I don't know." She shrugged casually. "But you-know-who's dead and Snape had plenty of chances to kill you. And you're the second coming of Merlin. They'll never have a chance once you go through Hogwarts."

I considered her reasoning and didn't see any faults, ignoring the tone of that last bit. "I guess you're right." I grimaced as a thought sprout. "But what of the rumours of you-know-who being out there just without a body?"

"Just rumours, I think. Spread by his remaining followers. Dumbledore says he's gone for good. I trust him."

My lips pinched. "I hope you're right." A foggy sensation told me she wasn't. I couldn't describe it. Probably just more of my worries. I didn't know what to think. They'd been so secretive about everything. Maybe Voldemort was really out there somewhere as a ghost.

We continued searching for her ingredients with little chatter. It was lucky that every jar, tray, and barrel still sported clear labels. They weren't that cruel. I gripped my wand firmly the whole time while we filled bag after bag. They were fixed with featherlight and interior-expanding charms to my relief. Each item of the list came with a needed amount. The curriculum sure needed a lot of different fish eyes. There were no vanilla powders of any type on my list. Could be on some second-year's though.

I was starting to wonder why no one else had approached me when I realised almost every witch and wizard at this end of the warehouse weren't shoppers but in fact, Aurors. I recognised each one of their suppressed magical auras. They'd all been assigned to me at some point.

They browsed the aisles and occasionally bought an item, likely for real. Aurors carried many emergency potions at all times. I could feel little pockets of dense magic by their waists if I concentrated hard enough. My sense of magic was quite enhanced by my wand.

And most of them weren't protecting me. They all had slightly adjusted their formation to include my entourage when we'd approached. They had telepathy charms—one of the most advanced, difficult spells known in history. Less than a handful senior Aurors could perform it according to Dad.

The Aurors were guarding a group of four or five. Two children? Their auras were almost nonexistent like with Olivia. But the texture was strange. The feeling was strange. Different… Alluring. I liked the feeling. Was that family magic at work?

Olivia tugged my sleeve. "What's wrong?"

"They're all Aurors by these aisles. Every single one. There's at least thirty of them."

"What?" she said a bit too loudly. "Are we expecting an attack?"

"I don't know." I squinted my eyes out of habit, craning my neck around the isle's end. I couldn't make out who or what they were protecting. "They're not assigned to us though."

One of them by the insect section, a middle-aged lady, looked at me for a second and nodded. A confirmation. She'd heard me from thirty meters away—listening wards.

"Mmmm…" Olivia stuffed another jar full of eyes into a bag at the edge of my sight. "Maybe it's the muggle queen and the princess witch."

No nods or glances at that. It didn't look like they were very conversational. It had to be someone very important—like the muggle queen. Next week's Quidditch match was only two days away. Tuesday night. Perhaps she was on a special tour of Diagon Alley. Yeah, that it. "Probably."

"Okay," Olivia said very loudly, "Frog and fish parts are done. Insect section is over there." She pointed straight to where the Aurors surrounded. Ten bags hung from her wrists.

I caught her drift without pause. Insect parts weren't on either of our lists. "Okay, let's go." I decided it was best to pocket my wand in case it really was the queen. Thirty Aurors were more than enough.

As we approached, voices fluttered through the multi-scented air. And to my great surprise, they were speaking in French. And English. It sounded like French girls and an old English lady. Strange. "And these… spiky worms… are supposed to make? I don't remember them from my last visit."

Definitely a muggle. No magic seeped from her. The person standing next to her was magical, however.

The two Aurors at the end of the aisle inconspicuously made way for us. I was thinking they wouldn't for a moment there.

A woman with silvery blonde hair answered. "Zey are a newly discovered ingredient used in regenerative draughts." Her accent was thick.

"Fascinating," the old English lady said with a hint of sarcasm.

"Harry," Olivia said. "That's the muggle queen."

The little girl with similar blonde hair, who stood closer to us, twisted around with a unique grace I hadn't seen before.

And then she pointed, her eyes widening. "It's Arry Potter!"

Oh. Just great. I swallowed a groan as Olivia giggled. She had to be one of my fans. I doubly reinforced my Occlumency.

The other girl whom I assumed to be her older sister—around my age I estimated—rushed to her side and took her hand, twisting her back around. "Gabby! Zat is very rude." Wow. She was extremely pretty. More so than her younger sister or mum—by a lot. I had to push her enticing aura out of my mindscape with extra focus on my Occlumency. Something about the girls and woman was different. The brunette man, however, was a normal wizard.

Olivia approached with a kind of pompous swagger. "Hey there, Your Majesty. I'm Olivia Potter." She thumbed back at me. "My twin brother, Harry. Saviour of Britain. Do you know him?" she asked the Queen.

Fantastic. How did I forget she liked to brag about me at the worst of time?

"Ah, yes, Ms Potter," the Queen said with a warm smile, breaking the sudden tension with ease. "I do recall."

If I knew any stunning spells, I would've fired one at my temple. I pinched the bridge of my nose and checked if my glasses were broken before joining in on the pleasantries. Hopefully, my dork of a sister—or I—wouldn't cause an international incident. Maybe I should turn back and run. My Occlumency wasn't perfect. I wasn't perfect.

A gruff voice said from behind, "Don't be shy. Introduce yourself like a man. You're representing wizarding Britain right now."

Moody. One of my Occlumency tutors. It had to be him. Freaking great.

And wasn't he retired?

I sighed and took a step forward. My kneecap creaked. The older girl's deep blue eyes focused on mine like a hawk's. The assault on my Occlumency walls continued and even increased in intensity but I brushed it off with ease. All I could think was: why is she so unnaturally pretty—and French?


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N Dark Harry will be a gradual development of his character.**

The waves of her unique, happy magic intensified to an astounding pressure against my mind, and out of nowhere, the girl sighed with a hint of disappointment breaking through her composed features. Her aura began fading. I blinked, and a breath I didn't know I had been holding wafted from my parted lips. My mindscape was in a serene state. I hadn't felt such peace since…

I don't remember.

And how long had I been staring?

Her chin dipped as she broke eye contact. She looked down at her sister. "See. 'e is just a regular boy. Nozing special." There was abundant emphasis on the Frenchy 'regular'.

"Huh?" I blurted without thought. I felt so calm. The usual stormy weather of my mindscape was gone. I barely had to focus on my walls to keep back my normally bulging power. What was this magic?

Her mum said, "Zat is a shame. Such a 'andsome leetle boy too." She flicked me a glance for a half-second. "But you should apologize, Fleur. Look at what you've done to him!"

"What about the bags?" I heard Olivia say, catching my attention.

The Queen was quietly asking about the shopping bags and how she was able to carry such weight. Olivia responded casually though politely. Good enough. No incidents there. And the man—their father probably—chipped in a comment or two.

"Arry Potter?" Fleur said more gently. We made eye contact again. Her skin and facial proportions were perfect. "Are you okay? I apologize for zat. I was merely showing Gabrielle you are not so special after all. You are not ze… second coming of Merlin… like ze books and papers say."

Her words barely registered. My thoughts were in a flurry.

Behind her, I saw Gabrielle wilt and scowl. "Zose liars."

I was still trying to figure out what the hell was happening. What that magic was. I hadn't read of such a thing in the books Mum had approved of. The closest thing I could come up with was a cheering charm, and I definitely had not cheered. And a portion of her mind magic had bypassed my Occlumency. That shouldn't be possible.

Was it dark magic?

It didn't feel corrupted, though I admittedly hadn't felt dark magic in my life. And the Aurors hadn't apparated in. Moody was able to somewhat sense magic. It was part of the Auror training. Olivia didn't seem affected either.

Still, I tensed for a possible confrontation, eyeing her more carefully. My magic was at the ready to bind everyone in place and pull back Olivia. No need to give away my suspicions with my wand.

Their dad noticed me as my lips pinched tighter. He smirked like there was an inside joke. "It'll pass. Take it easy."

Was he referring to that magical aura the women had? I guessed so. His remark was somewhat assuring.

The Queen gave me an apologetic look like she knew what was up with the witches. Olivia slyly peeked back at me and shook her head before continuing her conversation. It was like everyone knew except me. And I didn't know Olivia was so enamoured by muggle society.

Fleur raised her arm like an experienced dancer. She clicked her fingers in front of my eyes twice. "Are you in zere?"

Oh. Blimey, as the Weasleys would say. I'd completely ignored her. I took a deep breath. Musky insect scents filled my airways. "Sorry. Nice to meet you, Fleur." I held out my hand for a shake, but still kept my magic ready just in case. Constant vigilance around strangers. Even around muggle queens and pretty French girls.

She shook my hand without hesitance. Her skin was unbelievably soft and smooth. "You too, Harry Potter." She smiled. My chest warmed. "Fleur Delacour," she clarified.

I swallowed. She was so pretty. Much more so up close. "May I ask what that was? Your mind magic."

"Excusez-moi?" Her sleek eyebrow lifted. "Mind magic?"

Acting, perhaps? I knew some girls liked to tease and play these silly games with boys. "You bypassed my Occlumency when you stared at me back there."

Her face slowly morphed into a frown. She twirled around and said something in French to her mum, the word 'Occlumency' included.

Okay, she wasn't acting. I relaxed a bit. Mind magic was obscure and not taught at Hogwarts till the final years. Many couldn't manage basic Occlumency. Of course, most eleven-year-olds hadn't heard of it.

The girls spoke rapidly with their mother. Gabrielle said more and more. She grew excited again at the prospect that I was something special after all. I knew that look all too well. The look of someone bursting with questions to ask and autographs to sign. Maybe I shouldn't have mentioned my mind magic. Oops.

Finally, Fleur turned back around and looked at me suspiciously. Their mum approached. She knelt as Gabrielle skipped to her side with a ridiculous smile for a seven or eight year old. "Hello, Arry. I am Apolline Delacour. I apologize for my daughters' behaviour." She gave me a lukewarm smile. Her face wasn't wrinkled at all. "To answer your question, we are part Veela and what you felt eez our natural ability to attract males of… similar age."

Olivia spun around at that, her eyes wide. The Queen laughed. My ears heated by a few degrees though I recovered quickly. These Veela didn't sound very dark if that's all they could do. There were stranger, more inhumane hybrids out there. More dangerous. Darker, vicious creatures.

Apolline continued, "It eez mind magic, as you said… but Occlumency eez… very advanced and difficult. Are you sure you meant zat?"

I considered lying for a moment but decided against it. She seemed alright—on the surface. I nodded. "Go ahead. Hit me. Gently though." There was only one way to quickly prove one was an Occlumens. I was sure I wouldn't lose control of my magic, especially while I was inside Fleur's aura.

"Excusez-moi?" She was genuinely surprised—and concerned. Did I say something wrong?

Chuckles sounded from behind, followed by quick, uneven steps. "He's inviting you for a Legilimency attack. Potter's a bit of a crazy one." Moody again—disguised with that middle-aged man glamour. I could feel his magic eye twitching left and right behind it. He stood less than a foot away from my back.

Apolline stood gracefully. "So… You mean—"

"I vouch for him." Moody tapped his staff against my calf. "You have my word."

Gabrielle exploded with glee. She sucked in a breath and covered her mouth, squealing quite cutely. Her magical aura blazed but it didn't affect me like Fleur's, fortunately. "So eetz true! You are ze second coming of Merleen like zey say!"

Olivia plopped to her side. "Sure is! You should see some of the stuff he can do."

I politely offered a, "Yes, it's mostly true. Slightly exaggerated but mostly true."

It only fuelled her exuberance two-fold. "REALLY?! YOU CAN DO MAGIC WITHOUT A WAND?!"

Oh lord. I closed my eyes and massaged my temples. Please hit me with a stunner this instant.

And when it didn't come, I just breathed through my smiling teeth and focused on my walls. In and out. In and out. I didn't open my eyes again till Gabrielle's tidal wave of questions and praises were diverted to my sister. I silently thanked her intervention.

Apolline and her husband spoke in hushed French, occasionally glimpsing at me and Fleur every other sentence. They let their daughter run wild with Olivia like good parents, and Fleur continued studying me with that pleasant hawk-like expression again. I couldn't really tell but it felt like she was sizing me up in one way or many, almost challenging. Only the muggle queen was putting on a mildly disinterested act. Rather diplomatic of her. Patient. I appreciated that.

Fleur abruptly stepped forward with a large stride. She stood straight and said, "Arry Potter. I, Fleur Isabelle Delacour of ze Delacour family, challenge you to an exzeebeetion duel for my grandmuzzer, ze queen of England." She blasted me with a dense wave of her serene aura and shrugged her brows. "Do you accept?"

"Fleur!" her parents and sister exclaimed together. Gabrielle was the loudest. The Queen was suddenly very interested.

I was blank for a few seconds before a cocky grin warped my cheeks. I couldn't help myself. I usually despised olden-style wizarding etiquette and formalities, but that allure ability of hers made me feel too bloody great. My insides were warm and fuzzy. This part Veela French girl was simply amazing. My decision was made.

My own sister knew it was for sure, reading me like an unwarded book. And she knew of the dangers. And knew that this would definitely make the international papers by tomorrow morning. "Harry! Wait!"

Too late. "I, Harry James Potter of the Potter family, accept."

The warehouse was deathly quiet.


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Once I have a whole bunch of chapters, they will likely eventually be condensed into longer chapters and further edited.**

"Harry. You've been bewitched by her." Olivia's voice hardly registered while my mind was lost in Fleur's aura. "I'm getting Mum and Dad." Her form ran by. I didn't care. Fleur's magic was too delicious to pass.

My chest thudded once a second. Our faces were less than two feet apart. Her big, blue, smiling eyes were intoxicating. I could bathe in her aura all day whilst floating in the manor's pool. Every day. How much does Veelas cost each? Just kidding. My family would curse me if they heard that out loud.

Is this what a crush feels like?

I thought Mum had just been icky and weird all those times. As she would say, an invisible electricity sparked between Fleur and I. This was the best feeling in the world. My face approached temperatures I didn't think was natural. I flooded my skin with my magic, willing it to cool down. Just in case of a real fire breaking out.

"No duels," her dad said. "I forbid it. Not until after your first year of schooling." His accent was a mix of English and French.

I guess that put an end to our plans.

Our plans? When did I start thinking that? Fleur was affecting me far too much. I liked it.

"Hmph," Fleur mumbled, mirroring my thoughts.

Maybe I should ask her out on a date instead. My fingers tingled. "Hey, Fleur?"

"Yes, Arry?" Her eyelashes fluttered and my Occlumency slipped for a second. Her aura devoured me completely. My mind blanked.

"Ahhhh…" My right leg stuttered forward.

"Fleur!" her mum snapped. "Stop zat right now. You're cooking 'im alive!"

She kept on staring without cutting off her ability. "Zis is ze second coming of Merleen, iz eet not? 'E should be able to brush it off like eetz nozing."

Gabrielle said something in French to her sister, then looked at me. "I 'ope you'll be enjoying 'er soon." My head ballooned with heat at the implication. She giggled. "And if you don't, I'll also be of age in—"

Apolline cut her off with a hand on her mouth. "Gabby!"

I almost lost balance at the little girl's quips. These Veela weren't normal girls by any stretch. No way. "Eh."

She squirmed in her mum's nervous embrace. It didn't look like she could control her girls well. Or at all. Why wasn't their dad intervening more? And their grandmother was watching this like it was a theatre play, a wicked smile on her wrinkled, pale face. This was indeed one strange family.

Fleur sliced Gabrielle a gentle look. "Zat is very vulgar. I don't intend such a zing." And then back at me, "So? Did you wish to ask something of me, Mr Saviour?"

Did I? What did I wish to ask? Crap. She really has bewitched me. "Um."

Her dad finally stepped in with a heavy glare. He laid a hand on her shoulder. "Fleur. Please. He may be what they say he is, but he is clearly not fully immune to your allure."

I nodded in agreement. A lot of it bypassed my Occlumency for some reason. Not all. At least a third to half. The texture of her magic was wispy like air and steam that'd seep through my gap-ridden stone walls. There were hundreds of holes. That must be it. No mind magic should be able to bypass except for potions. Dumbledore was adamant on that point.

With a great pull on my magical core and willpower, I tore my eyes away from the beautiful Veela, to her surprise, and cleared my throat awkwardly. "Sorry…" My voice was off-pitch. "Mr Delacour. My Occlumency is not perfect."

"It's quite alright. My daughter can be very…" He shook his head and chuckled. "Cut it out. And no duels," he said to Fleur. He added something in French—a threat of a grounding or a similar punishment most likely.

"Fleur," her mother said with more authority. "Stop eet." She grabbed Gabrielle's hand and Fleur's arm. "Both of you!"

They began to argue but their dad said something again. It didn't sound good.

Fleur's face fell in a way distantly similar to when Mum or Olivia had been fearful and worried about my magic. Her allure receded and needles stabbed into my chest. I hated that look. Especially on Fleur, my new angel. I didn't want her to be sad. "It's okay. Don't be sad," my mouth said in a sappy tone. My feet stepped forward and my hand took her silky fingers. "I like it. You don't have to stop. Your magic helps me more than you know. You feel amazing."

Her eyes snapped to mine and I realised what the hell I was doing. What I was saying.

Then I was yanked away from her as someone grasped my arms. The aura was Mum's. And Dad's. Uh oh. She spun me around. Her wand was out. Dad's too. "Harry!" She began silently checking for curses and such.

"Uh." I couldn't meet her overly worried eyes and found Olivia's instead. She gaped at me scandalously, and I sneered back at her in our usual way. "Hey, dork."

She smirked. "Ooo la la. Don't be sad. Your magic helps me more than you know. You feel amazing. How romantic."

Just great. I sighed, then said with a bout of courage, "I meant it." Fleur's aura was still behind me. I wanted her to know.

Olivia choked a cough.

"Oh, you've done it now," Dad said and whistled before approaching the Delacours. He dragged Moody along, who had apparently been looking away like nothing was out of the ordinary. Well, nothing was wrong in my opinion. I didn't know why Dad was so concerned. Were Veelas so dangerous? Fleur was anything but. She was incredible.

"You meant it?" Mum said exasperatedly as she finished her examination.

I innocently nodded. "Her allure helps with my magical control."

"Really?" Olivia said incredulously. "You sure you're not still bewitched?"

I nodded again, blushing.

Mum took hold of my chin and looked into my eyes. "Her Veela allure helps with your control. Are you sure?"

"It's true," I said in a small voice. "It makes me calm and happy."

Olivia scoffed. "Oh yeah, I saw that much. You should've seen yourself. It was like you hadn't eaten in days and was served a big platter of stuffed chicken."

"You don't understand." I pointed at her and shot a squirt of icy water. She sidestepped effortlessly.

Mum sighed. "Just…" She shook her head and stood before joining the others. Dad was hushly speaking to Fleur's while the girls were speaking in French. It sounded like Fleur was in big trouble. My bones creaked as I twisted.

Fortunately, it wasn't that bad. My dad wasn't yelling and the Veela girls were simply having a gentle but stern talk. Though I admittedly didn't understand French. I could only guess based on their expressions, body language, and tone. Mum had given me a fairly interesting muggle book on that once. Human psychology, I believed was the subject.

And at the edge of my eye, the muggle queen was browsing the shelves like a regular shopper. "Charmed Beetles? Fascinating," she mumbled to herself.

Maybe this was a dream. This whole day. From receiving my incredible wand to meeting Fleur. I had far less crazy dreams before Snape put me on the Dreamless Sleep Draughts. I pinched my side just in case.

Olivia nudged my arm. "So you and Fleur, eh?"

"Shut it."

"I'm serious."

"So am I."

She put her hand on my arm. "If what you're saying is true, then I'm pretty sure she's going to be part of your lessons from now on."

Bloody hell. "Oh."

"Yeah. Oh." She grinned smugly. "You're a lucky boy. She's more beautiful than I'll ever be."

I was smart to not comment on that—because I completely agreed. Fleur outclassed the prettiest girls I had ever met by a lot. My dorky sister included. And the way she treated me… It was refreshing. But a tad annoying. Perhaps that duel could still happen. It'd take her down a notch or ten. Humble her.

Mum abruptly shouted, "Harry is too young for a girlfriend!"

I groaned and Olivia laughed along with the muggle queen.


	7. Chapter 7

I couldn't believe what I was hearing. The adults were bickering like kids. Mum vehemently did not want Fleur and I to be anywhere near each other. I didn't understand. She wasn't even okay with us being friends. No snogging in a cupboard or anything—just hanging out with Olivia and the others.

"They are still children, I must say," the muggle queen said.

"Thank you," Mum said, then twisted back to Moody. "So why didn't you do anything?"

"No one was in danger," he gruffly said and shrugged.

"No one was in danger?!" She looked like she was about to slap his glamoured face before Dad gently took hold of her hand, chuckling. "My son has been ensnared by a Veela!"

I still didn't see why it was a bad thing. She should've been happy that I'd found someone who made me feel so great. The surface of my magical core was like the mirror surface of a lake. All Fleur's magic at work.

Apolline put a hand on her hip. "He 'as not been… ensnared." Her voice wasn't confident.

"You know he has." Mum copied the posture. "How long was he exposed?"

"Not for too long."

"See. It's alright," Dad said. "Let's work something out. I'm sure they can just be friends. It will help with Harry's control."

"Sounds good," I quipped and sidestepped towards Fleur, letting more of her magic through. She flashed me a little smile and upped the flow. My insides warmed in such a pleasurable way. "Thanks. It really does help my magic," I mumbled and took her hand again. The touch of her skin was divine. It made me feel good in a new hot and sweaty way. My waist tingled.

"No problem, Mr Saviour," she said with an exaggerated accent. "I'm glad you can at least clearly talk now." She gently squeezed my palm and a wide grin pulled at my cheeks.

"No problem, Mr Saviour," Olivia mimicked with a girly gesture by my face. Gabrielle giggled.

I ignored them. Their jabs bounced off my walls. This was our moment and no squabbling adults or dorky sisters were going to ruin it.

"Just look." Mum pointed at me and every pair of eyes followed her gesture. "He can't stop touching her." She grabbed my wrist and yanked me away—for the third time now.

"Come on," Dad said, grinning. "It's not that bad."

"You know it is," Mum shot back with implying look. They were leaving something out. Something important. "And you, Monsieur, were very irresponsible for letting your daughters do that. And I know you know when you wife is one."

"What's wrong with Veela?" I raised my left brow.

"Yes, Mrs Potter," Fleur said, "What eez wrong with Veelas?"

Mum pinched her lips and crossed her arms, glaring. Her grip on me tightened uncomfortably.

Apolline grabbed Fleur's respective wrist and said something in French. Her tone was stern though quite tired of this extended fiasco and my Mum's overreaction. I was too, and I sorely wished I knew a language-translation spell if one existed. My parents didn't looked to have had casted one so I doubted it.

But if my typically gentle and levelheaded mum was this rustled, then whatever Fleur had apparently done to me had to be big and serious. I just couldn't figure what when she made me feel so good… so happy. "Dad's right. I'm fine."

"Harry." Her tone was sweet. "You don't understand and—" She winced. "You're too young."

"For what?"

"For a girlfriend."

My face twisted. She said that in a clipped tone I didn't understand. It didn't quite match the words. "What do you mean? Wizards my age have girlfriends. It's not that weird." This couldn't just be about having a girlfriend. Not when she had a thing going on with Snape when they had been younger than I.

Dad hummed for a moment. "There are nothing wrong with Veela. It's just that—"

Mum pointed her wand at him. "Don't."

Dad held his palms up and stepped back. "Alright. Alright."

"Is her allure's effect permanent?" Olivia asked with a hint of concern.

Mum winced again.

My stomach flipped. "What?" My eyes bounced to my dad and Fleur's. They were nervous. I looked at the Veela girls and Apolline was uncomfortable, avoiding my eye. "Didn't you say it will pass?" Sure, I rather liked Fleur and really liked what she did for my magic but the thought of being giddy and lightheaded for good was horrid. I was sure my magic would be running wild in any other situation.

"Would you like me to tell you?" Fleur asked. Gabrielle snickered and covered her mouth. Her face reddened.

Olivia took a small step to them. "What is it?"

"No," Mum strongly said as Fleur opened her mouth. "James." She threw him a mean glance, tugging me further away. "We'll discuss this later."

"Are you sure?" Dad said. "They're eleven and—"

She shook her head. "Let's go before—"

"But I just met Fleur!" I almost lunged for her while Mum held me back, and it slowly dawned on me that maybe, just maybe, that her Veela aura might indeed be dangerous. I was losing my mind over her addicting beauty and magic. I stopped struggling at once, then blocked out as much of Fleur's magic as I could.

"Wow," Olivia whispered and leaned to my ear. "You would've tackled her there."

I swallowed. "Yup." I couldn't help myself. I needed Fleur so, so much.

Mum said, "We're leaving. James."

Leaving. The word cut a deep wound into my chest. "But—"

"Harry."

She was probably looking at me with that no-more-arguments look. I didn't care. My eyes didn't leave Fleur's. She was giving me a pitying look, growing sadder by the second. She clearly wanted me too to some degree for whatever reason. "Fleur," I whined. "Tell me. I'm sure it's not that bad. Please."

She didn't respond, only looking away.

Mum sighed and her wand began cutting out a pattern I recognised within a heartbeat of dread. A sleeping spell for emergencies. This wasn't an emergency.

"No!" I desperately reached out. My magic whipped down my arm and wrapped around Fleur. She yelped, her hot magic flaring. I broke out of Mum's hold but it was too late. The spell took effect and I was overcome with drowsiness as I caught Fleur's soft, fruit-scented body.

Perhaps I should've stopped Mum's wand-hand instead. How stupid of me.


	8. Chapter 8 (Formatting Fixed, Sorry)

I woke and found myself sprawled on my bed, a smouldering melancholy weighing down my body. Fleur wasn't with me. Of course she wasn't. She was gone, taken from my arms. They wouldn't leave her alone in my room with me after what'd happened in the potions shop—Mum's overreaction. And my bigger overreaction. Fleur was probably put off beyond measure by how I'd seized her like an enlarged doll. My fault, again. Sorry, I would say if she wasn't gone. Not a single trace of her lovely magic remained, washed away by another's.

Mum's potent magic. The sheets were drenched with softening and calming charms, plus a temperature charm and a few others I didn't recognise. All spells carried a unique signature of magical energy. A unique pattern, intention, and feeling associated with it. Some were simple: a mere squiggly texture. Others were highly detailed: a fabric or structure laced with a myriad of intentions and feelings. Mum's work was always near-perfect. She worked at St Mungos as a charms master, aiding the healers and sometimes assisting with healing. Her magic had a viscous honey-like texture that dispersed more slowly than others. It permeated my mindscape with a sweet aroma. Quite relaxing.

It wasn't comparable to Fleur's, however, and didn't do a thing for my magical core. It bulged more by the second. The surface of the crater-like well broiled and lashed at the inner chamber of onyx and granite. Strong and sparsely found in the barren wastelands of my mindscape and easy enough to work with. I had once thought an imposing, dark fortress would be a cool sight. Not so much anymore.

I would transfigure and conjure vast acres into forests and lakes if I had the knowledge and time to do so. Plant conjuration was exceedingly difficult. I hadn't had a flowery or leafy accident once. Maybe Fleur could. She was so confident of herself. I'd ask her if I could, if I was still in the alley with her. I was already missing her musical voice and accent.

The more I thought about her absence, the more my belly sank, and the more I had to do reinforce the gap-ridden walls at my mind's bounds. Squeezing my eyes, with strenuous effort, I erected a piece of undulating, blueish-red pure magic by the largest gap, and stretched it up to the darkening, cloudy skies. I projected my intention and weaved it into the lattice. The tax on my magic was immense.

I pulled out of my inner world as the flow of magic cut off. I fixed my sight on the single glass light orb dangling from the ceiling. It swung ever so slightly in the eddies of my leaking magic. The silk curtains and light didn't calm for over a minute.

I settled into my usual near-subconscious focus on my Occlumency, then bit back any last sparks of annoyance at Mum. At the adults' secrecy. I knew they were doing it to protect me—because they cared—but this was too much. I was eleven and I'd be spending most of every year at Hogwarts starting next month. They couldn't shield me anymore. I wasn't a child. In some was I was, but not in others. I'd uncover the secret behind Veelas one way or another, and then meet up with Fleur one day, assuming she'd forgive me. It was partly her fault, so I was hopeful.

As much as my instincts protested, I'd have to sneak out and find her before their departure for France. International portkeys and flus were expensive and inconvenient. Mum and Dad would never allow it, especially Mum. Perhaps it was time to learn Apparition. I could pay someone from the alleys to supervise and tutor me. I didn't have the Trace either. Dumbledore had gotten Olivia and I exceptions for our lessons. They hadn't wanted to leave her out. And neither had I—after what'd happened.

I shook my head and sat up, scanning my cozy room, catching a glimpse of the midday sun before noticing my nightstand I'd crafted from a block of oak. They'd placed my wand on it and lazily draped my outer Potter robes over the chair I'd also crafted. Most of the woodwork in here was my doing. A wardrobe, a small bookshelf, and a cabinet for my other stuff. Crude and ugly in places, but it was mine, and proved to me that my magic wasn't only a curse.

"Psst."

I flinched and snatched my wand.

Olivia's head appeared over the chair. "It's just me."

Dad's invisibility cloak. Mum hated when we played with it but he encouraged our pranks to an extent. It made for fun games, I had to admit. The artifact completely masked one's magical aura unlike other cloaks. It couldn't bypass most wards though. "What is it? Why were you watching me?"

"Found out why Mum didn't want you and Fleur together."

A thick, wrinkled book appeared below her head. Her disembodied arm tossed it to me and I caught it midair with a flick of my wand. It floated into my palm. My reaction speed was still on-point. I read the title.

 _Dangerous Humanoid Creatures And How To Deal With Them_

A line of goosebumps rode up my side. "It's that bad?"

"In a way." She smiled crookedly.

She'd be in a far worse mood if it was extremely bad, so I gulped a cool mouthful of book-scented air and opened the front cover. The content list wasn't very long. Twenty or so entries. I didn't recognize most except for Werewolves, Vampires, and Satyrs. I didn't find Veelas till the end, under honorable mentions. That calmed my nerves significantly. My shoulders loosened as I leafed to the back. The script was extravagant, cursive, and faded in many places. It was difficult to read.

"So what if you don't like what ya read?" Olivia chirped.

I jerked my chin at her. "I doubt it's anything bad. Honorable mentions."

"Hmph. Someone's in denial."

Maybe I was. I shrugged and sped through each page till I found the extra fancy letters for the Veela title. The section was only a few paragraphs long under a painting of a single rose. They couldn't be that dangerous. Fleur was a wonderful girl and her mum had said they were only part Veela. My neck bones creaked as my eyes hopped to the first sentence.

 _Native to Europe, Veela are voluptuous sexual beings with the ability to seduce men at will.—_

I choked on my saliva and I swore fire engulfed my cheeks. Apolline certainly wasn't lying when she'd said they could attract males.

Olivia broke out into squeaky laughter. "You should've seen your reaction."

I cooled myself down with my magic, then shook my head. "I just wasn't expecting it to be so… explicit."

Her eyebrow lifted. "How much did you read?"

"First line. Why?"

She rolled her eyes. "Keep reading."

"Fine." I took a breath. "Don't laugh."

"Kay."

I could feel glee in the magic radiating from her face and gaps in the cloak. My sweaty palms and fingers gripped the paper tighter as I continued. I barely deciphered the blurred letters of the next sentence. A gnarly fingerprint ruined the right side, cutting a few words in half. Fortunately, I could fill in the blanks.

 _—They are a female-only, human-avian hybrid species and relies on human males to reproduce. Contrary to popular belief, all Veela are full-blooded and possess all known Veela powers. Their origin is unknown, though it is said they are descended from those fallen from heaven. Those who win one's heart are the luckiest of men._

Huh. That either meant Apolline had been lying or wasn't sure of her own species. Or that this book was wrong. "It says all Veela are full-blooded. Apolline said they were part Veela. Do you think she was lying?"

"Not sure." Her tongue poked into her pale cheek. "The book's really old so things might've changed since. The back says it's from 1074."

A frown creased my brow. 1074 would make this one of the oldest in the manor's library—in the non-restricted section at least. It could be outdated. "Were there any others? Newer ones?" The library sported an enchanted catalogue scroll that allowed for easy search.

"Yup. But they were much less detailed." Her head tilted. "They all said the same thing about their allure though." She grinned deviously.

My legs shifted with unease. "What?"

"Read it, silly." She giggled.

I grumbled and began reading the next paragraph. The handwriting was messier, like the scribe had been in a rush to finish this book.

 _When angered, Veela are able to enter a bird-like form which grants them minimal flight and powerful fire magic. They are semi-feral in this state. Only the disciplined are able to control this metamorphosis. Wand-use in this state is not advised. A notable rumour is…_

The rest of the sentence was faded beyond recognition. As for the transformation, it wasn't too alarming. It sounded kind of like a Warewolf's but more of a boon than an ailment. The minimal flight and fire magic was useful in my mind. I was quite curious to see what Fleur's avian form looked like—and even more curious of what the rumour from the middle-ages was.

I cut Olivia a glance. "The other books said the same about their transformation?"

"I think so." She was still eagerly waiting for my reaction to the third and final paragraph.

"Did they mention the rumour?"

"No."

I nodded and hesitantly returned my eyes to the stained paper. It was good to cross-check. I'd learned many books in the library weren't reliable. Some even had teeth and bit you upon touch. It was part of the reason why Mum assigned us approved reading. We just couldn't help ourselves sometimes by sneaking extra books, at our own risk.

The words were hardly legible and the next section wasn't at all. It was a strain to read this.

 _Their magical ability to seduce males, also colloquially known as their 'allure', is far more dangerous than at first sight, and must be handled with caution. Very few men have a natural resistance, and fewer have the magical prowess and dedication to master the mind arts necessary for a perfected defence. Paradoxically, it is these few and powerful men whom Veela seek and pursue to maximise chances of healthy, powerful offspring. This ability is invisible and potent. It can be narrowly targeted or cast wide. It induces lust, attachment, happiness, and a peaceful state-of-mind._

I'd already inferred all that; however, there was a sentence at the end written in a thicker script I couldn't quite understand thanks to a single word. I had always found the literacy classes with the other children tedious and boring. Quill work just wasn't my thing—and they wouldn't teach us the quill enchantment spells. Looks like it was finally coming around to curse me.

 _Extended exposure results in a hyperactive libido for some length of time, the intensity magnified several-fold for those coming of age and may cause non-harmful side-effects._

I meekly asked Olivia, "What does libido mean?"

The loudest laughs I'd ever heard howled from her gaping mouth while she descended into hysterics. The cloak slipped off her figure as her legs kicked. She palmed her chest and belly and her mocking laughter didn't quiet for over half a minute. My ears were ringing by the time she wiped tears from her eyelashes.

Laugh it up, sis. Laugh it up. I just kept breathing and let her jeers slide off my Occlumency. A duel erupting here would only delay her answer. I needed to know what this libido was. It sounded like a painful curse. "So?"

She let out a long breath, then chuckled a few more times. "You really don't know?"

"No. Wasn't paying attention in English class. My bad." My nose twitched.

"Your libido is," she said with that infuriating smug expression, "your sex drive. Basically how much you want to shag. We'll really start feeling it in a couple of years at most."

My face ignited for real this time. I madly clamped down on my magic as yellow and blue flames flared up my sight. I grabbed my shirt and fanned my chest before the rest of my body could catch fire too. No wonder Mum didn't want me to be with Fleur. I had already started feeling my libido around her. And I liked it.

Olivia said between guffaws, "You know what shagging is, right?"

"I do," I mumbled, looking away. I had a fairly accurate idea of what it involved.

"Good!" she shouted way too loudly. "Thought I had to explain that too!"

This couldn't be happening. Wasn't I supposed to have this talk with my dad instead of my sister?

 **A/N So if it wasn't hinted clearly enough last chapter, there's going to be some underage sexual content.**


	9. Chapter 9

My face was still burning. Not burning for real anymore, thankfully; however, thoughts of Fleur and shagging now wouldn't leave me alone. The feel of her skin, the sight of her ethereal beauty, her unreal teal-blue eyes and almost-glowing, golden hair. I wanted to run my fingers through her hair and hold her close, breathe in her unique fruity-vanilla aroma. Maybe I should've kissed her pink lips and touched her more when I had the chance.

My special place throbbed and tingled in a way I didn't know it could. It felt great. More than great. An urge to press my body against Fleur rose within me like a raging inferno. That must be my libido. I really didn't know much about this stuff, admittedly. I wondered if Fleur also had a libido going. Would it be rude or wrong to bring these things up with her? Something told me it wouldn't be—after getting to know her a bit. The books kind of hinted it was in their nature.

I noticed Olivia was crucifying me with that smug look, and I mentally slapped myself. _What the hell am I thinking?_

"Watcha fantasizing about, bro?"

"Piss off." I didn't usually swear, but this was an occasion for it.

"Oh, I think I know." Olivia held back giggles. Her face tightened as her eyes narrowed a bit, judged me with what I assumed to be a dirty look. Some of the older boys had mentioned 'dirty looks' once or twice—how girls would look at them sometimes when they were thinking about them in gross ways. Well, I now understood why it wasn't gross. It was anything but.

I shook my head, mentally slapped myself once more. Cool magic flooded my body as I forced myself to get a hold over things. My wand reacted to the surge of inner-magic with a slight tug at the invisible blood bond, helped me regain my sanity. Chilly wind blew throughout my bedroom.

What in Merlin's name did Fleur's magic do to me? I was losing my mind. I hadn't been this icky over girls before. It was as though her magic had flipped a switch in my head, turning me into one of the older boys, which I was destined to become anyway. Dad had said something like this would be happening sooner or later… I just hadn't thought it'd be this excruciating.

Groaning, I pinched my brow. "I think this is what puberty feels like. Fleur's magic triggered it."

Olivia blinked in surprise. "You might be right. It could be one of the side-effects."

Ah. Of course, it was. It was obvious now that I thought about it. I said, "The book's wrong."

"Hmm?"

"I'd say it's extremely harmful. This is torture. I can't stop thinking about her. I have to double my efforts to keep up my Occlumency without her allure calming my magic."

Olivia smirked. "You can't stop thinking about her?"

"This is serious."

"It is. The great second coming of Merlin can't stop thinking about a girl. What will the papers say if they find out?" She began loudly laughing again.

My wand hand jabbed at her, a blob of water at her face. She dodged easily. "Shut it."

She poked her tongue at me.

Why did I even bother talking to her? Looking away, I sighed and concentrated on my mental walls. I patched up a couple more large holes that'd sprung up, and I forcibly kept she whom must not be named out of my mind's eye no matter how much I wanted to think about her. I'd get through, someway. There had to be a way to endure if every boy in Britain was destined for this.

The door knocked. "Olivia? Are you in there? Harry, are you awake?"

Mum. Shock rippled up my sides.

It opened before I could stash the heavy book under my bed. Mum's emerald eyes bounced from me to Olivia, then straight to the book in my grasp. She recognized it in a heartbeat, her face draining of color. Dad was just behind. He winced. Not good. A gulp sank down my throat.

After what felt like eons, Mum shook her head and sighed. "I can't say I'm surprised, but perhaps it's for the best. You need to understand where I was coming from." Her reaction was far calmer than I thought it'd be. She looked over her shoulder. "James, can you handle this?"

He nodded, stepping around. "Better now than never." His strong magical aura flared as he waved his wand, conjured a finely polished wood chair at the side of my bed, and sat with a serious look. He took the book from me.

I assumed he was going to deliver my fate, whether I'd see Fleur again. Please be yes. I didn't care how irrational that was. It was what I wanted.

"Olivia," Mum said, jerking her head toward the hallway.

"But—"

"Let the boys have their chat. We'll have ours." The tone was final.

After a moment, Olivia exhaled and sprang off the chair. "Fine." She sauntered out with a slight slouch, her potter robes wafting a faint hint of her magical aura.

The door clicked shut, and I braced for the worst, not quite meeting Dad's gaze.

"Harry."

I looked at his matching glasses. He was sombre—though warm. The sappy mood was killing me. "Just get on with it. Am I going to see Fleur again or not?"

He chuckled. "Why do you want to see her?"

I almost rolled my eyes. "Because her allure helps with my magic." My nose wrinkled as his brows lifted. I let out a hot breath. "She's really pretty and doesn't treat me like the second coming of Merlin like every other girl we run into, including her sister." I'd already forgotten her name. "I kind of want to have that duel. I want to see how good she is." How powerful she was, whether she could match me.

Dad smiled widely. "Ah. A good answer, because I would've said you're still ensnared by her allure if you had stuck with the first bit and nothing more."

"Obviously." It was difficult to not be sarcastic. "I like her."

"How much?"

I nearly squirmed. For some reason, talking about this stuff with Olivia was less awkward. Maybe it was because she was my twin. "Too much. It's just like Mum described when she was being icky about crushes and stuff."

Laughing, Dad adjusted his glasses. "I see. How much of it is the allure?"

It took a long moment for me to answer. "I don't know. I think the allure triggered something in me, a side-effect like the book says."

He grunted in agreement. "Most likely. You still remember our previous talk, right?" About puberty and stuff.

"Yeah."

"Good." Dad's aura swirled. He conjured a metal cup and filled it with warm water, took a sip. "Are you adamant about the duel?" His head inclined a bit. His tone was hinting something.

I wasn't sure of what. I shrugged. "Sure. I officially accepted on behalf of the family, right?"

"Yes, you did." He inhaled a long breath. "It was magically recorded on both our family registrars."

My jaw dropped, my eyes swelling. I'd completely forgotten about that. It'd been so, so long since we'd done anything formal with the old ways. It was boring as heck too, memorizing all those rules and customs.

"It can be cancelled, however. The Delacours have already offered to rescind."

No! I wanted to shout. This was my chance. My heart rising in pace, I said with much courage after a moment, "I want to have the duel."

Dad beamed at me. "I knew you'd say that!" He ruffled my hair, much to my dismay, but I let it pass, for I somehow managed to keep Fleur in my life. Maybe it was her plan all along. How smart of her.

Dad cleared his throat. "However."

"Yeah?"

"It is still ultimately my decision as head of House Potter, and after a lot of discussion with your mother, there are some conditions for this duel to happen… for multiple reasons."

"Oh." My posture sank. "And they are?"

He took another long breath. "Since it's an official duel, it will likely make headlines throughout Europe, so you both will need to put on a good show… for your age. But more importantly, we don't want you ensnared by her aura again, so the duel won't be happening until after your first year at Hogwarts and mastery of Occlumency."

It took everything in me to not protest or groan at the top of my lungs. The only thing stopping me was that the book said Veelas sought after lads who were able to resist their allure. That explained why she'd blasted me with it at first sight. It was only another reason why my inner walls were so important.

And Dad could easily read the disparaged look on my face. "Those are lenient terms."

My head churned as I tried to find a way to speed things up. "What happens if it's left for too long?" There had to be a time limit or something.

"Nothing. There weren't any conditions, stipulations, or stated time-frames."

Ugh.

I was about to argue before another thought struck: I could still see her at the upcoming Quidditch match, and the terms only referred to the duel, nothing else. I smiled and tried to make it not too sly. "Okay. I accept."  
Dad looked at me with clear surprise. "I thought you were going to be difficult. Just what are you planning?"

Buggers. He knew me too well. "Quidditch."

He caught my drift without pause. "Way ahead of you, son." He winked. "I've got your back."

Wow. My brows zipped up, compressing my forehead tightly. Now that was something I for sure hadn't expected.

"Don't forget I was your age once, not too long ago." He chuckled two breaths. "But seriously, you will have to work extra hard on your Occlumency over the next few days." He added with distaste, "Snape will be here shortly." He stood, un-conjured the chair and cup, then gave me another hair-ruffle.

I was far too happy and lost in bliss for it to bother me. I was going to see Fleur again in less than a handful of days. Mum would just have to put up with it. "Thanks, Dad."

"No problem."

* * *

 **A/N**

 **Thanks for the review and snarky comments the other day, guest, so I thought to do an update. Harry's probably going to furiously masturbate to Fleur every night once he discovers himself, if they don't get together by then. He might even try to imperious her if he turns evil. I hope not.**

 **I'm surprised people are still finding and reading this story of short chapters. It hit 200 favorites, somehow… My bad for just dropping it. Been a tough year for me. Haven't been able to write much, but to answer the comments and others regarding Harry's sudden weak-willed-ness: though he's mentally older, he's still at the onset of adolescence, inexperienced with girls, and Fleur the pretty veela overwhelmed him. She's his first crush, albeit magically induced. I thought it was quite clear. Maybe not. Shrugs. I also got a couple questions on whether Gabrielle will be thrown into a three-way romantic pairing eventually. The answer is a no. I don't write incest even if the genre is creeping up on here and Literotica and other places like crazy… But I was tempted to age her up and write her as the pairing instead; however, her character in canon, or what little of it was shown, wasn't what I was looking for.**

 **(POTENTIAL SPOILERS)**

 **It will be strictly Fleur/Harry, though Harry might be tempted to mess around with some girls at Hogwarts while he's there (he may or may not be staying for long).**


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N Whether Snape and Lily are actually having an affair will remain a mystery like many things in life.** **I don't really care either way; I only wrote Harry and Olivia's conversation as a way for this scene to take place. Remember that the adults still don't know that the children know (that Olivia overheard).**

* * *

I exited my bathroom and strode through the decorated halls of Potter Manor, my wand emanating a gentle hum of magic in its holster at my leg, overshadowed by a vast dome of intricately woven magic high above my head, high above the ceiling. The Fedelius Charm—along with a myriad of wards and such. Though it was mostly the Fedelius Charm. Dumbledore's work. I could feel it the most when I moved through the halls, and even today, the power of this particular spell enthralled me to no end.

The mansion was very, very grand. Three floors of over twenty rooms each, an extended basement, spacious gardens and fields, and even a dungeon, snugly sat within the concealment spell at a northern alcove of the Scottish Highlands. We were quite close to Hogwarts by some chance, a few hours away on a high-speed broom, and not a single witch or wizard would stumble on us even if they flew directly overhead. Simply astounding.

Fleur would like it here, I bet, though her family probably also had lavish places tucked away in both France and Britain. I had to remind myself she was part of muggle royalty. That had to count for something, right? I wasn't sure of the conversion rate from their many currencies to Galleons. It couldn't be generous.

And even now, she kept on intruding on my thoughts like an itch that wouldn't go away. A good itch.

I sighed and hurried my pace. My shoes squeaked harshly against the polished marble floor every other step. We needed some carpet in the halls. As a date, maybe Fleur and I could go shopping someti— My face scrunched as I halted my thoughts with a strong mental slap. I was going to see her soon; right now I needed to focus on my Occlumency above all else to ensure I was still going to.

I sped up my gait, imagined I was strolling through a lush rainforest instead of these portrait-lined halls. Various historical figures and family ancestors looked at me left and right, silent and judging. I guess they could tell something was irking me. Nosey buggers.

Soon enough as I descended a flight of stairs, I caught up to Olivia and my parents at the reception. A few of our house elves were serving refreshments; Dumbledore and Snape were already there, the Potions Master grim-looking as ever. He sure liked the color black. Maybe it was a habit from his Death Eater days, reminded him of their robes and masks. For his sake, I hoped that he really did love—

I ate a gag reflex and refused the train of thought. I didn't want to get involved in the adults' disgusting business when I barely had a handle on my own. Fleur was my priority.

Ugh. I meant my Occlumency was my priority.

I silently heeled onto the bottom step, and of course, Dumbledore was the first to notice me from all the way across the lobby. He nodded with grandfatherly warmth, then sipped out of a crystal goblet. Pumpkin juice. I took a small triangle sandwich from an elf's server and joined in. I wolfed down the meaty bread in two bites.

"Harry. It's good to see you are well," Dumbledore said. There was heavy implication in his tone.

"Thank you, sir." It was all I could say, and I didn't really mind that he knew about my new… goal.

Snape crossed his arms, catching my eye. His magical aura was tiny in comparison to Dumbledore's, though of quite similar power to Dad's. "Mr. Potter. Not very punctual today."

"Apologies, professor. I needed the bathroom."

"Apology…" He paused for dramatic effect. "Accepted." There was a nearly invisible smirk at his lips.

Dad actually laughed. Olivia too. While Mum simply shook her head, sheepish, I just wanted to get this through with quickly. I didn't care if Snape was in a good mood today. The lessons with him were the worst, quite agonizing with the continued mental attacks. We only put up with it because this method produced the quickest results. Olivia didn't have to take part, thankfully. Though she could—if she wanted.

While mostly the adults resumed their smalltalk about such and such, I remained lost in my own little world, strengthening the walls protecting my mindscape as much as possible. I knew what was coming: Snape was going to see my memories of Fleur if I failed to keep him out. Bloody hell. I didn't know they could be so sadistic… but it was apparently for my own good. As usual.

Olivia bumped my arm. She said in a low voice, "Snape's going to see—"

"I know." I stood straighter, feet apart. "He won't get in." He rarely did nowadays.

"Good to hear. I was concerned."

I looked at her curiously. If I didn't know better, that sounded like she cared about me. "You were worried about me?"

"Nah. More like I'm worried about the manor."

My head inclined. "I'd fix it up easily, especially with my Elder-Thestral wand. It's mostly stone and glass."

She looked at me with a… different expression. Almost blank. I didn't know what to make of it, and I didn't get a chance to question her; Mum said my name and took my hand, already leading me outside through the open double-doors. It was safer out there in case of accidents on my part, which were very common during these lessons with Snape—and why Dumbledore tagged along.

Mum, Dad, and Olivia stopped at the edge of our Quidditch field while I continued to the center with the two professors. It had to be Snape. He was a master Legilimens and Occlumens, better than even Dumbledore and Voldemort. I found that hard to believe.

Freshly cut grass crunched under my shoes, and arctic winds blew from the north, my hair going blowing left and right. The sun was unusually dim, so I heated myself with a wave of my wand, looked out into the wavy seas to calm myself for this 'lesson'. I was doing it for Fleur as much as I was doing it for myself.

I stood facing an emotionless yet intense Snape, two meters apart, while Dumbledore lingered further off to the side, wands all out.

"Whenever you're ready, Harry," Dumbledore said.

I breathed grassy, icy air, exhaled. I was as ready as I could be, my heart going at a steady beat of eighty and no more in the influence of my Occlumency. I was in absolute control of my emotions. My inner walls were reinforced to the max.

I nodded.

Snape made his move. His magic rumbled, expanded like an explosion funneled at me through his arm and ebony wand. "Legilimens."

Far stronger than usual, the intensity caught me off guard. I was sucked into my barren mindscape with the lonely obsidian fortress guarding my magical core and memories. The spell slipped into a gap in the outer translucent barriers like a vicious snake. It seeped right through my inner walls.

Then I saw her. Fleur—staring at me with that hawk-like expression. It was as though I'd gone back in time. I was with her again and not. I wish I could reach out and hold her, but I couldn't, and I couldn't even sense her lovely magic and allure either. Still, she made me feel incredible. I didn't know a girl could be so pretty and graceful. I didn't know a girl could be so brazen and challenge me unlike any other.

With a blinding headache, the memory shifted.

Fleur yelped so cutely.

I was holding her. Her soft, warm body was unlike anything else. Her fruity-vanilla scent filled my lungs. A happiness greater than anything I'd ever felt filled me to the brim, my heart pounding in my neck. I leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

And then she was gone. The memory dissolved. I was back in my inner chamber next to my crater-like magical core.

Snape stood with a pitying look.

No. He took her from me.

"How…" His brows lifted. "Pathetic. No improvement, and the vanquisher of the dark lord had been reduced to—"

"Back off!" Rage took over. I lost control. That single taunt sent me over the edge, and everything that'd been bottled up in me for years burst forth like a sudden earthquake. The crater rumbled, then exploded with pure, undiluted fiery magic. The misty snake of his spell was blasted out in an instant, and the entirety of my power stormed through my mind, violent, angry, and hot as a dragon's flame. Everything was on fire.

I was yanked out of my mindscape.

"Harry!" someone yelled.

Everything really was on fire—the whole world around me. I didn't care. Some things needed to burn. Some things like the Death Eater standing before me. I screamed from my stomach as my face strained with hate, and my flames took on a deathly tinge of black. I collapsed it all on Snape with a slash of my wand, fed it more of my power. It demanded more as though it were alive.

My flames grew in size, blurred together and stormed the field like a hurricane, and at the eye of the hurricane was not a hollow but a beast of blackish-red fire risen from the depths of Hell. It had two heads, the heads of lions, and the body of a dragon. It roared with a deafening screech, its jaws unhinging to reveal the fangs of a snake.

It was beautiful, and it was mine, waiting.

A throaty laugh spilled from my parted teeth. Snape was going to burn. How dare he take her away and mock me, and how dare he love Mum then join Voldemort. I flicked my wand, flicked my intent through the magic connecting me to it and the flames.

The beast lunged, screeching louder.

Snape disappeared with a crack in a haze of white.

I felt his puny aura behind me. My ankles strained as I twisted.

A flash of red.

I crumpled to the ground, drowsiness defeating me.


	11. Chapter 11

On a bed in our infirmary, the second thing that came to my senses was a numb pain throbbing up my side and left arm every heartbeat. The foul taint of dark magic seethed from my body, seeped a lingering, irrational hatred for nothing and everything into my mind. My arm twitched as I shifted. It hurt to move, so I stayed absolutely still in my agony.

But despite that, I felt as though a great weight had been lifted off my chest, off my mind. Whatever had been pushed deep down into me and compacted with all the other pains, hurts, and frustrations I swallowed over the years burned in that hellish fire. My great beast of fire had consumed it all. I no longer cared about the spat with Snape. I was free, like I could soar through the skies without a broom. Maybe it was possible. Who knows.

"Harry," an old voice said. Dumbledore.

I rolled my head right, careful to not move anything below my neck. I could barely feel his aura through the fuming dark magic.

"Sir?"

"Concentrate on your magic, and sweep away your darkness. Only you can."

"How?"

"Positive emotions." A small smile spread across his wrinkled lips. "Happy memories. Happy thoughts."

Well, that was an easy thing to do.

I focused on my center, on my magical core. I thought of Fleur, the prettiest girl in the world, and my family and friends. And my tutors to an extent. But mostly of Fleur and our upcoming duel and Quidditch date. Happiness poured into me like warm milk as I washed myself with pure light magic. It didn't matter if we were barely more than strangers, less than acquaintances. It was how my emotions were, irrational and unforgiving of what I thought. It was how magic was.

And Fleur could fly in her avian form. I wondered if she often did. I wondered what she looked like. We could swim through the waters above—together. For however long we desired. The image brought me peace, and the last of my dark magic dispersed into nothingness.

Dumbledore's beady wand made frilly patterns over me, and the pain also vanished with an influx of his old magic. I was healed, mentally and physically.

A long, cool breath came to me as I sat against the headrest. "I'm so sorry. I lost control back there." Concern for the others sprang. "Is anyone hurt?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Only you."

I was genuinely surprised. "What about Snape? He was there just behind me when I passed out." Next to my beast.

"Apparition is very useful in a duel." His tone was quite carefree.

I couldn't help but ask, "Then why didn't he get me out as well."

A serious look, followed by a more-serious voice, "Fiendfyre is extraordinarily dangerous. The caster must be conscious for it to remain tame, and when Severus stunned you, your monstrosity lost all restraint. I was nearly caught on the hip, Harry."

Fiendfyre. I now had a name for my purifying dark beast.

"And I must say, unless accidental, it is highly forbidden," Dumbledore said darkly, catching the look on my face, "and it was one of Lord Voldemort's favorites."

Was I a bad person for not caring?

My Occlumency walls shielded me once more, protecting that thought; it was just a spell, albeit a dark spell. Any wizard strolling down Diagon Alley could claim it as their favorite. No one had ownership of any particular spells or types of magic save for family magic. My Fiendfyre had helped me in more ways than Dumbledore knew, more than I ever wanted him to know. Though it was dark arts, it was very cleansing in a way.

Still, I made a face for him—because it was illegal stuff. "I understand, sir." I didn't want to get in trouble with the old toads at the ministry. My status only bought me so much leeway.

Dumbledore inspected me for a long moment. His half-spectacles glinted in the evening sunlight. I could just barely make out a calculating expression behind them. He was up to something again.

"Is there something you would like to tell me, Harry?"

I inwardly groaned. He could read me too easily even without a mental intrusion; however, I wasn't going to budge on my little secret. I sorely did not wish for my parents and Olivia to freak out over my new favorite spell that I shared with Voldemort of all people. My stomach was close to flipping at that, but I kept composed, thinking through my options.

I settled on: "Why didn't you tell me Snape was a Death Eater? That he loved Mum and betrayed her."

For the first time, I saw what a surprised Dumbledore looked like. The way his magic stilled to a frozen block was frightening, and the way he looked at me was disturbing. Like he was looking at a… I didn't know. I just hadn't seen Dumbledore give me this look before, as though he were afraid. Not quite, however.

"James' invisibility cloak. You overhead."

I nodded. "Olivia did. She told me. Sorry," I said in a small voice.

"This is why you lost control at Severus? Not because of your memories of Fleur Delacour?"

"Both, sir, but more so Snape being a Death Eater." It was getting easier to lie, and I was growing guiltier by the word. A cold weight settled into my throat.

After a strained moment, he sighed. "I did not wish to burden you with such a truth, Harry. You've already so, so much to handle for someone so young. Please know we kept this from you with your best interests at heart." As usual. "There are many terrible, terrible truths in the world, and sometimes, we may prefer ignorance over knowledge."

Right. Ignorance over knowledge.

I took a breath, stretched my back, fought myself to not argue. "And you trust Snape, even though he was a Death Eater?"

"I trust Severus with my life."

"Because he loves Mum?"

He nodded.

I swallowed stomach acids. I had to ask, "Are they having an affair?" Please, please be no.

Dumbledore jolted back, a comical look on his face. "Why would you think that?"

Shrugging, I looked away. "I was just being worried again, and Olivia said it could be possible."

His brows lifted. "Many things could be possible, Harry, even the bizarre and unlikely."

Merlin's beard! Why did I even ask?! A wave of nausea coursed through me as an image of Snape and Mum holding each other entered my mind. Sickening.

He cleared his throat, a twinkle in his eye. "However, it is in my experience that the vast majority our worries, insecurities, and fears deceive even the best of us for the worst. Voldemort was driven mad by his fear of death. Don't let your fears destroy you."

Okay, that was actually somewhat helpful. I sighed in relief. "So you don't know?"

"I do not, and I wouldn't hold Lily in such low faith either. She was one of the brightest and best witches of her year—in Gryffindor." He looked to the left of me for a moment, for whatever reason.

That was the best I was going to get from him. The only way I'd get a for-sure answer was asking either Mum or Snape, and if they really were doing the unspeakable, they'd probably lie to me anyway. I just needed to stop worrying about things so much. They were adults. They could handle their business.

"Alright, that makes sense." I swallowed, changed the subject. "So are we still doing lessons till the Quidditch match?"

Dumbledore looked at me sharply. "Only if you're comfortable with it, and only if your parents approve."

"Do they?" It better be yes.

He nodded.

I almost pumped my fist into the air. "Then I'm comfortable with it. Snape's stronger spell caught me off guard earlier. I'll keep him out next time, I'm sure."

"That's good to hear." He leaned in really close. He said in a near-whisper, "And between you and me, Harry, if Fiendfyre weren't of the Dark Arts, I would highly commend your control over it, whether it was accidental or not. Very, very few are able. I must say I am impressed."

Utter shock silenced me. I couldn't believe what I was hearing. Wasn't Dumbledore the lord of light magic or whatever? I had thought he utterly despised any form of darkness. Well, I guess I was wrong about that too. I didn't know him that well, and he was… however many years old. Maybe he had a bad streak during his younger days. "Ah… Thank you, sir."

He nodded and stood with a parting smile. "Take care."

Dumbledore disappeared with a nearly inaudible crack, bits of white haze at his sides. He was able to apparate through his own Fedelius Charm, of course, and the display only further pushed me closer to finding an apparition tutor in the alleys. There were plenty of shady characters who'd take my gold.

Suddenly, Olivia's aura appeared next to me. I startled, my healed side lashing as I twisted. The invisibility cloak again. Jeez. I prepared for the worst.

She shouted way too loudly, "You should've seen yourself! That was incredible! How did you do that with the chimera?!"

She'd missed the part about Fiendfyre? I rolled my eyes and dodged her question. "What's a chimera?"

She lightly punched my arm. "It's like a dragon with multiple heads, dork."

We descended into our usual chatter about this and that. She didn't seem to care that Mum probably wasn't having an affair, and I was extra-careful to not let any of my new secrets slip. They could all potentially jeopardize my upcoming surprise date with Fleur. She would see how much better my Occlumency would be.

I asked at one point, "By the way, Dad's still taking us to the Quidditch match, right?"

"Is a certain Veela on your mind?"

"Just answer, or I'll unleash my chimera on you," I said playfully. I'd never actually do something like that, of course.

"How scary." She giggled. "Yes, we're still going. I asked for you. They're coming up in a bit. You're welcome."

"Thanks." I smiled. A real, happy smile.

* * *

 **A/N The last chapter was supposed to be a kind-of psychotic breakdown where all the stresses on Harry's psyche reached a tipping point. Fleur wasn't the only reason he snapped, only the tipping point. Hopefully, this chapter cleared it up, and I also slightly edited the part where he tells Snape to back off to make it a bit clearer.**

 **AaronD1/CuriousGuest: I hope this is satisfactory. I split this chapter in two to accommodate that part of the talk.**

 **Guest: Lmao... You seem to have an unhealthy fixation on mentally unstable boys. Tell us how you feel. Let it all out, because Harry's obsession with Fleur is going to get pretty deranged. I'm glad my writing is able to invoke such hate for a character.**

 **Smutley: When they're older, if Gabby can't keep her knickers on around Harry, then Fleur might (stress might) share him with her for a night or two, though it's unlikely I'd plan to write this in at this stage. This story is more about a boy with way too much power pushed to his psychological limit.**


	12. Chapter 12

It turned out Mum and Dad weren't coming up. My conversation with Olivia kept rolling along and arrived at the subject I didn't really want to talk about. I couldn't help but bring it up with her again.

"I hope Dumbledore is right about Mum and Snape."

Olivia exhaled. "Do you really want to know what I think?"

"Yeah. Why not?"

She looked at me peculiarly for a long moment. "Does it even matter? So what if they're having a shag on the side. It's not like he'd ever get any of our wealth or family magic from it. Dad's head of the house, and you're his heir."

I felt as though she'd punched me in the nose and gut at the same time. "How can you say that?"

"I just did." She smugly grinned. "As long as we stick with Dad, we'll be good."

A gulp slithered down my throat while I looked at her with apprehension. This was more than just everyday dorkishness. I didn't have a word to describe it. While goosebumps tingled on my arms and sides, all I could manage was letting the chat roll on. "So you still think it's possible?"

"Didn't you hear what Dumbledore said?"

"Yeah, but why did _you_ think it's possible?"

She blinked, then said in a quippy voice, "Oh. Ginny said her mum said ministries around the world have trouble with affairs all the time. So it could be possible no matter how unlikely, like Dumbledore said."

"People do it often?"

"Apparently."

My nose wrinkled. I knew adults weren't perfect, but I hadn't thought things would be that bad, and I had thought my parents of all people would be better. I guess they were regular people like anyone else.

"Don't you think you're worrying too much about this?" Olivia almost sang.

I shook my head. "You really don't care? About Mum?"

"You really want to know?"

I nodded.

After a short stare-down between our matching green eyes, for once, she said with dead, cold seriousness, "She's nice and caring for a mum, but she's pretty smothering if you know what I mean, so I don't care, and I don't think you should either."

Holy Hell!

"What's gotten into you?" I finally asked. I couldn't fathom how she could be so… cold.

"Nothing." Back to smug. "What's gotten into you? Why's the second coming of Merlin getting so worked up over this? Hmm?"

A heavy scowl pulled my face in as I looked away. This was exactly why I had always stowed my worries deep within me, let them stew and dissipate instead of voice them. Everyone expected me to be some kind of super-boy capable of all kinds of miracles. My parents and tutors all pushed me to do better, all the time, except I wasn't that boy they wanted. A boy without worry or fear or risk of hurting his own sister by accident.

I buried the thought before that memory resurfaced, breathing slowly, reinforcing my Occlumency walls.

And then it dawned upon me.

My magic had dealt her quite the head and body injury. Mum mentioned the brain, the stuff between one's ears, had a lot to do with one's personality. She'd learned that in muggle schools during her childhood.

I had done this to Olivia. She'd been a bit different, a bit off, ever since that day. Now I knew exactly why.

Pained sorrow assailed me. I couldn't bring myself to look at her. It was all my fault. Everything.

Olivia sighed loudly, catching my attention. She mumbled, "Harry."

"Yeah?" I slowly edged my eyes to her. She was a mix of smug and sombre. It was a strange combination.

"I'm not as heartless as you think, and if you ever tell anyone this, I will hex you into oblivion, but it's been very hard on me being the sister of the second coming of Merlin, being so ordinary and in your shadow all the time, especially when you were younger with your magic exploding every two minutes in my face. I've just grown to be a bit…" She shrugged.

"Heartless?" I quipped, but I was glad that she wasn't all broken, much to my relief.

Smirking, Olivia snatched her wand from her holster and twirled it. "Flippendo."

I slapped it away with a flick of my wrist, magic concentrated on the back of my hand and fingers. Easy.

Her left eyebrow arched. "No retaliation?"

"A bit tired from the duel with Snape." It was true. My Fiendfyre had taxed my magical core to the limit, and now that I thought about it, I was quite famished. I could eat two platters of steamed chicken.

"That counted as a duel? You didn't last ten seconds before he stunned you."

"Longer than you'd last against me," I said too seriously, and it clearly wounded her, so I quickly added, "But if you knew how to apparate, you'd probably last much longer. I doubt Snape has the power to do what I did, and yet he was able to beat me with it. Apparition seems like a massive equalizer." My words seemed to help a bit, her face lifting.

"What's your point? We're years away from—"

"I'm thinking to sneak out with the cloak and hire a tutor in one of the shadier alleys. You in?"

And back to smug. "So you can impress Fleur?"

My eyelids blinked. I hadn't thought of that. "Yeah. For our upcoming duel, if I can get away with it."

"You could probably say it's accidental." Her tongue clicked. "But yes, I'm in. When?"

"Maybe today or tomorrow night. We'll use the floo."

"Duh. What else would we use?"

"Brooms?"

Her eyes rolled. "That's stupid. The alleys are in London. We'd be riding all night."

I was about to throw a snarky quip at her, but my stomach grumbled like a can of rocks, a minor ache gnawing. I was growing oddly out of breath, and my limbs were becoming heavier by the moment. My chimera had taken more from me than I'd thought. It was one hell of a beast.

Olivia said, "Mum and Dad are preparing a muggle barbecue." Her head jerked to the door. She stood and pressed the bed flat, cloak bunched up in her arms. "Let's go. Want to race?" She sprinted off without giving me a chance.

And I definitely liked muggle barbecues. I was on my feet in an instant, landing harshly on the marble floor. I stepped into my shoes and snatched my wand from the nightstand, noticed Dumbledore had conjured me a set of Potter robes and pair of glasses—free of charge. How nice of him.

It didn't take long for us to race to the ground floor, Olivia leading the way and running ahead. In my drained state, I could barely run, and my stomach rumbled a few more times while whatever was left of my reserves drained. My legs were burning by the time we were at the front double-doors, and I caught a wink of Dumbledore's aura before it vanished.

But that didn't matter, because the two barbecue devices were going full-blast. Char-grilled, savory aromas blew in the air, filled my lungs with such delight that my mouth was watery with a single breath. If anything, muggles sure had good style when it came to cooking.

Mum was the first to notice me. She ran to me and gave me a crushing hug, sobbed once. "Harry! I'm sorry, but Dumbledore insisted on talking to you alone. We couldn't heal you. You were burned by your dark magic."

"I'm fine, Mum. Dumbledore taught me a new technique." Not really a technique.

"I'm so glad you're okay." Her voice broke, her embrace tightened.

Jeez.

While she kept on hugging, my eyes swept the front court. I hadn't expected a party of all things after my outburst, but I guess they were used to these things happening by now, particularly so during the lessons with Snape. It was just today's accident was much, much worse than usual. They were too forgiving of me, though I guess Dumbledore had multiple chats with them and sorted it out for me. How doubly nice of him.

By the barbecues, Dad glanced at us and chuckled, house elves aiding him. Sirius was beside him, grilling steaks with Olivia. So were the Weasleys and a few of the other kids I had shared prep-classes with. The girl from the Greengrass family was sitting at a table with Ginny and a brunette girl, and I nearly mistook her blonde hair for Fleur's.

Fleur. She was the one person missing here. Mellow bitterness gripped my chest, no matter how unfounded it was. I wanted her company. Simple as that.

Mum finally relaxed, looking me in the eye. "Harry. I know it was accidental and Dumbledore already talked to you, but that was extremely dark magic, and I want you to promise me you won't ever try to learn that."

My eyes widened. I needed my fiery chimera.

Her eyes narrowed a bit. "Otherwise your duel with Fleur is canceled."

All warmth drained from me. She had to go there. I put on a face, lying. "I promise. Dark magic feels horrible anyway. It stinks."

"That's my Harry." She ruffled my hair, then guided me to the gathering by the hand.

Olivia was right. She was smothering. Snape could have her if he wanted her that badly.

* * *

 **A/N This chapter was going to push the plot forward in my outline, but the reviewers convinced me a change was necessary. I hope this puts an end to the affair subplot and make it 100% clear that Harry/Olivia aren't normal children.**


	13. Chapter 13

While I approached, still quite annoyed at Mum, and took a seat by a few of the older boys close to Sirius' grill, the guests—my friends—didn't pay me too much attention while they gorged and mingled among themselves. A few younger ones ran and tumbled in the field, oblivious to my presence. I appreciated that, them not treating me like the press and public did. You'd think they'd have gotten used to my company by now, and fortunately, most of them long had; however, there was always one or two who'd become dazed.

Like a certain Weasley girl.

I looked deliberately at the table to the left, catching Ginny's eye. "Remember to chew while you eat. I'm fine with the staring, however." It didn't matter whether she was just another one of my crazed fans or if she had a crush on me—or both. It was all the same from my perspective.

She immediately looked away, blushing, and I had to remind myself that not only she couldn't handle banter like Olivia could but also she was indeed a regular eleven-year-old. Only Olivia and I received special Occlumency training that aged one's mind, which was why I sat with the older boys instead. They also made for good sparring partners.

Uplifting magic blipped behind me, and I found a plate of veges and steak floating toward me. I guided it to the table with a wave of my hand, reached for the fork and knife.

"Don't worry, Harry," Fred, one of Ginny's brothers, said before I could take a single bite.

"She'll get over you," George, Fred's twin, added.

"And if she doesn't." Fred again.

"You can always put her in a full-body bind." George. His tone was implying something I didn't bother to question. I was hungry.

And that was their thing, talking in turns like a lot of twins liked to play, but they played that game incessantly. I wasn't sure if they did it to just mess with everyone, as the pranksters they were, or if they had some kind of problem with their noggins. I didn't care. They treated me normally. Well, most of the time they did.

"That's true. Now let me eat." I dug in.

Or I was going to.

"Harry," Cedric Diggory said from a couple of seats down the table, "can you cool the juice pitcher, please?"

My Occlumency walls bulged. "Why can't you do it?" My tone was sharp. I was growing peevish, and it was expected; it was almost dinner time, the evening sun setting the sky ablaze with golden-red hues. I had been out for longer than I'd thought.

Cedric flashed a girly smile. "I'm still underaged. Don't want to get hit with the trace."

"Do it wandless." I knew traces were charms applied to wands, not area-magic as claimed by the ministry. I could feel it off the wood, not on mine, but on theirs when I had seen them.

"Easier said than done," Percy Weasley mumbled, one of the older Weasley brothers. I thought he'd turned seventeen. Apparently not.

"Don't you know the trace can't detect underage magic—"

Percy cleared his throat dramatically. "Actually, it can detect when someone performs magic through a Fedelius Charm, Harry."

Oh, right, Percy was a follow-the-rules-to-a-tee kind of guy and liked to pretend to be an Auror. I didn't want to waste more breath, so I waved my hand and willed the pitcher to cool to just above freezing, strands of invisible magic flowing from my mindscape through my fingers. My dwindling reserves were more than enough for such simple magic. Easy.

"There."

"Thanks," Cedric said with another girly smile. He grabbed the pitcher.

I finally bit into my first cut of juicy, hot steak, and on second thought, they could've just asked an adult to do it. They were just giving me a tough time again, messing with me. I didn't mind.

I sensed Olivia's approach. She plopped down next to me with a plate of sausages, peas, and mashed potatoes, and fortunately, she didn't try to make conversation. I nudged her elbow in thanks and greeting as I swallowed another bite. Delicious.

Discarding the chatter around me, I downed almost half the plate in record time. At one point, a child called my name. I ignored him whether it was polite or not. I could feel my magical reserves already refilling. The sensation was of great lukewarm relief, as though I were bathing in a bath of perfect temperature. Keeping up my Occlumency was second-nature again.

The pitcher hoisted with my magic, I refilled my goblet of pumpkin juice, and a kid's magical aura neared. I recognized it to be Ron, youngest of the Weasleys. We weren't too close, though he tried to be my friend. It wasn't working out in many ways. He was painfully ordinary and daft at times. We shared little in common, almost nothing. Even Fleur and I had our dueling thing, and we barely knew each other.

"Hey, Harry," he said cheerily.

I sipped juice. "Hey, Ron. What's up?"

"Do you think we could get some of the brooms out?"

Olivia looked at him and said in between two bites of a sausage on her fork, "You fractured your arm last time."

I nodded, agreeing. "Let's not risk it."

"They're right," Percy added.

His shoulders sank, his frustration leaking. "Come on. We'll be at Hogwarts in a month, and there'll be broom-riding classes. I want to prepare. I might even get on the Quidditch team."

With masked disdain, I concentrated on his body and carefully surveyed his magical aura. I found it to be lacking for his age, weaker than the other eleven-year-olds at the other table. His magical core was underdeveloped. He'd likely have trouble staying on a broom for another year, at least.

I shook my head. "Sorry, mate. Your magic still needs growing."

Now he was angry. "What do you mean it still needs growing? We're old enough for Hogwarts!"

And I really did not want to deal with this. "Look. Your magic is still that of a nine or ten year old's. If you get on one of our brooms and hurt yourself, I will probably get in trouble again."

"I'm not nine! I turned eleven in March! I'm older than you!"

"That's not what I meant."

"Then how can my magic be nine years old? Cus it's not. Bring out a broom. I'll prove it."

Merlin. Save me. Why couldn't I be with Fleur right now? She also seemed a bit older, mentally. She wasn't exactly human; they likely aged and matured differently. I shook my head and resumed eating, looked away from the kid. Sometimes, I wished a permanent aging potion existed. I didn't know how I was going to fit in with all the first-years. It was very, very trying.

"Ron," Percy said, "that's enough."

"Don't worry, Harry," Fred said and stood.

"We'll handle this." George.

"But—"

"No buts. It's time to go back to the little-boy's table."

"This way, brother."

"Oh, come on—"

"This way."

Ron's magical aura shifted as if he were casting a spell. Accidental magic. It was coming at me, very sluggishly and extremely weakly, so I didn't bother. Part of me was curious to see what it was going to do, though I braced my magic in case it was harmful.

My plate cracked into two.

Immediately, Olivia's head snapped right and down. "Really? He got under your skin?"

"No. It was his accident." I repaired the plate with a small wave, imagined the pieces to click back together and meld. My magic did the work, and the result was flawless.

The twins returned. "He won't bother you again," they said together.

I nodded in appreciation.

Roger Davies, the quiet guy whom I didn't know well at all, finally said something, "Harry, what's it like being able to feel magic itself?"

I had gotten this question many, many times. It was why I almost never mentioned my abilities. "Well." I glanced up from my plate for a second. "Imagine you were blind, but you're not at the same time and able to see in all directions even behind your head, and all you could see is magic, except you're not really seeing it, rather, you're feeling and seeing a kind of heat that isn't hot, a heat that can't be described in the same way that you'd never be able to describe sight to a man who has been blind from birth. It's a sixth sense. Ask Dumbledore. He can describe it better, probably."

Cedric burst into laughter. "Have you practiced that speech?"

Olivia answered, "He has. I saw him in front of the mirror."

"Not in front of the mirror," I clarified, "but it's the answer I usually give."

"I see," Roger said lightly. "Not literally."

"I definitely wish I could see!" Cedric said, still laughing.

I smirked, then laughed a few breaths. The older boys sure did lighten my mood. I returned to eating, finishing the plate. I was still hungry, so I stood, plucked my wand from its holster, and floated a plate from the barbecues with a swish toward me. My magic flowed through the savory air and wrapped around the plate, lifting it.

I instantly noticed my mistake with a thump of my heart. They didn't know Olivia and I didn't have traces. They weren't supposed to know.

"Harry. The trace," Percy said strongly, which only made it worse, for it made even more people look.

Sitting back down, I re-holstered my wand; however, it was too late. Far too late. Everyone around us looked. I mentally groaned, my magic flaring through my mindscape like a series of tornados. I'd gotten a little, just a little, giddy and lost my focus.

Olivia whistled.

"That wasn't a practice wand," a girl said.

Thank you so, so much.

Ron stood from the other table, pointing. "It wasn't! I saw! It was the same color as Dumbledore's!"

Ron!

"Yes, it was. What wood is it?"

Roger!

My body heated. My magical core swelled and tested my Occlumency to the maximum. It was a good thing that the adults were starting to intervene, and it was even better than Ron's mum was telling him off for being so rude.

Dad laughed and said in front of everyone, "It'll be fine. It was just a small slip-up. It's your first incident, isn't it, Harry?"

I smoothly caught on. "Yeah." But I seriously needed a time-out. I was on the verge of exploding, and everyone knew what that entailed. I took a breath and snatched my plate off the table. "I need a moment to myself to cool." I fixed a meaningful look on Dad, then Mum, then walked back to the mansion while the barbecue resumed without too much of a care.

Mum said something, but it was lost among the chatter. It didn't sound like she was too concerned for once.

Today really wasn't a good day for a dinner party. Whoever had that idea must've been bewitched.

Before I reached the door, I noticed Olivia's aura tailing me. She caught up and whispered, "By the way, Ginny asked me to ask you out to the Quidditch match for her."

My eye twitched. Flames sparked at my fingertips for a heartbeat and two. "Already have plans."

"Should I say that?" She followed me in.

I picked meat off my plate with gestures of my finger, eating with swift bites. "Yes. Tell the whole world Harry Potter is smitten over Fleur Delacour." As the words left my mouth, I wasn't sure if I was being sarcastic or deadly serious.

"Well, then I'm going to the alleys to find the press."

I thought she was also being sarcastic before she grabbed the invisibility cloak from an empty bookshelf and strode toward the floo. "Olivia. What are you doing?"

She looked over her shoulder. "Perfect time to sneak out. Did you forget?"

It took a moment. "Apparition? You're insane."

She smirked. "Just say we went to a park. Mum and Dad will understand."

No, they'd freak the hell out, and she knew. "You're insane."

She grabbed a handful of floo powder, stepped in, and giggled. "Knocturn Alley!" The heatless green flames roared to life and whisked her away.

I gulped. There was only one thing to do here, and it was not leaving my very ordinary sister alone in Knocturn Alley. Maybe I should've stopped her, but I knew, somewhere deep down in me, that I was hoping for her to go through with it. A risky adventure like this appealed to me more than I wanted to admit. The only thing missing was bringing Fleur along for a good time.

I followed her in, plate still in hand. Warm mashed potato piled into my stomach before I threw the powder with a bit too much force. "Knocturn Alley."

* * *

 **A/N This might be the last chapter for a while. **


	14. Chapter 14

Even though it had only been just this morning since I had last gone through the floo network, it was as exhilarating as the first time I had went through. The twisting, tumbling, singing magic rushed into me, not uncomfortably, and merged with my own magic as the flames filled my vision, burning away Potter Manor's lobby in a flash of green not too dissimilar to the killing curse. My earliest memory bobbed to the surface momentarily.

Within a second, the scenery changed and I recognized this place with a queasy squeeze of my stomach. I had been here before when I'd misspoken Diagon Alley. Borgin and Burkes. The inside of this dusty, grim shop filled with various gruesome objects radiated a constant hum of dark magic.

Olivia instantly draped the cloak over me as the flames whiffed away. Her face leaked a sign of relief, though masked by her usual assuredness. "About time," she whispered. "Do your silencing thing."

I nodded, stashed my almost-empty plate onto a nearby shelf, pulled out my wand, and whipped it in a flat circle, projecting my intention to block all sound coming from us. A bubble-like encasing of my magic laced with the intent took shape, invisible and untouchable. The makeshift ward drew a constant trickle from my magical core, and no one would be able to hear us even from a centimeter away as long as I remained awake. I had done this enough times for it to be easy.

"Done," I said, keeping my wand in my grasp. "Did anyone see you? Draw your wand, by the way."

She drew it. "Nope."

"Good." I tried to not pant in relief; however, I sent my sixth-sense through the shelves and cabinets just in case, all the nicknacks greatly hindering my sense of magic. I still caught a glance of someone's unimpressive aura by the front counter. It was that of a third or fourth year student—probably an intern from Slytherin house. Either that or he was greatly suppressing his power with Occlumency. I couldn't recall how powerful Borgin and Burke were.

And it was extraordinary lucky for us that the floo wasn't warded, now that I bothered to check. "That was a massive risk," I breathed. "The floo could've been warded."

"Is it even possible to check from the other side?"

"No, but I was thinking to go for Diagon Alley and sneak our way here."

She frowned, mouth twisted. "That probably would've been smarter… but we're here. So let's go find a tutor." Her head angled toward the front. "Do you think he could—"

"Not trustworthy." I shook my head. "Hundreds if not thousands of people probably come through here everyday. Someone could easily interrogate him with a mind attack and find out we were here."

"You've really thought this through."

"Not really. Just pointing out the obvious."

Sheepish, she pinned me with a look for a moment. "Alright, Mr Mastermind. Lead the way."

What else could I do but lead the way? So I stepped forth and waved her to follow. With slow steps, we went without another word, brother and sister, twins in crime, my gait slightly ahead of hers while we strode through an aisle of jars. Various body potion parts spun in their jars when my potent aura engulfed them, and the smell wasn't too revolting. Hopefully the cloak wouldn't pick up an irremovable stench from trailing on the stained floorboards. It was big enough to cover us both and probably a third as well. Enough room for Fleur, actually. We'd make for an imposing trio.

I squinted and ejected her from my thoughts with my Occlumency held at maximum strength. Danger lurked beneath every step in this alley, in this shop; I couldn't let myself drift off to fantasy land with her while Olivia was in my charge. My heart was already pounding at a hundred beats per minute up my neck, my palms a bit moist. I sucked in a breath, pooled cooling magic throughout the surface of my skin. It helped. The tension was maddening, though I was slowing growing accustomed, thriving. Somewhat.

We rounded the corner, the next aisle of tomes, and my hunch turned out to be exact. It was an intern, a young guy either fifteen of sixteen. He sat behind the counter reading a small book. Borgin and Burke were probably off to dinner or whatever dark business they usually dealt with.

And the door was shut. I stopped walking.

"Hmmm?" Olivia hummed, nudging my arm. "Are we really going to wait for someone to come by?" A lot of impatience there.

"No." How fortunate for us that it was rather windy outside and that the door was flimsy. "Get ready to run through." Summoning a tidal wave of my magic from within, I cut my wand from right to left and flooded the alley with a gust of monsoon wind from high above, angled a bit toward the shops on this side so it'd buffer against the door. My airy magic stormed in me and down my arm, into my wand's handle and out through the slightly glowing tip. Small pots tipped over and loose tiles tumbled down the alley, eddies of dust dancing across the windows.

Olivia began madly laughing. "Oh my lord! Harry! What have you done?!"

"A little gust."

"A little gust!"

"Just a little." I grinned widely, and the door banged open with a final push of my magic, my wand flicking toward my chest. The intern looked up, and I pulled Olivia's arm with my free hand. "Go."

We rushed through and stood among the devastated storefronts, a few people already fixing things up with their wands out. It didn't seem as though they felt my magic. Of course not. My gift was one in however many million witches and wizards. Dumbledore was the only other I knew. There were reportedly a couple others in Europe and Asia, but I had never gotten the chance to meet them. And they weren't as powerful either, according to Dumbledore.

Olivia's laughter finally died down. "I think you overdid it by a bit."

I shrugged. "I wanted to test out my wand with more of my magic."

"Didn't you do that with the chimera?"

My chimera. Its fearsome screeching roar rang in my ears. "That was more of an accident. I wasn't really in control. Not sure how I did it, really."

She looked at me curiously. She didn't believe me.

"I really wasn't. It was a spur-of-the-moment type of magic." Even as the words flowed from my lips, I didn't quite believe them. Somehow I knew I could unleash my Fiendfyre again—with sufficient anger. I knew the dimmed flames were still inside me waiting to be stoked, felt it in every last crevice of my mind.

Olivia smirked, obviously reading the look on my face. "If you say so."

I huffed once. "Let's just go. We'll try the inn first. That way." I didn't actually know where it was. I just wanted her to feel assured.

"Kay."

She didn't protest as I gently guided her down the windy, twisting, zig-zagging 'alley' lined with oddly shaped buildings leaking dark magic, and the deeper we journeyed, the establishments increasingly gushed darkness till the air was thick with a gloomy feel. It wasn't anything like my chimera, however. Not even close.

When we reached a fork in the alley, Olivia let out a long breath against the wildly flapping cloak. "You don't know where it is."

"Neither do you."

"Is there even an inn here?"

The question gave me pause. This alley wasn't very secure; the usual blanket wards Diagon Alley had were missing, and the ministry claimed to not have sufficient resources to police this place. It really wasn't an alley in the usual sense, and when I held my wand high, closed my eyes, and pushed my magical sense as far as it could go, to the very limit of my ability, Knockturn Alley looked more like a district of three or four streets. Diagon Alley was similar though much bigger. I didn't know why I had expected anything different.

Olivia bumped into my side. "So? What do we do?"

"Wait." I kept searching for any particularly dense pockets of magic in the air. Those usually indicated presence of powerful wizards. There were several. One close to us—seven or eight buildings down to the right.

I jerked my head toward that plainly shaped building, two stories high. "Over there. The one with the small blue sign."

"It doesn't look like much." She clicked her tongue as a man in black robes passed close by, almost touching the cloak. His aura was quite impressive, but he was leaking plenty of dark slivers. Maybe he'd injured himself and was too unskilled to heal himself even though Dumbledore's technique was very, very simple. Maybe he enjoyed his ambient foulness. I didn't care.

I shrugged and continued, Olivia's hand in mine. Her aura was almost nonexistent under the ambient weight. It was likely effecting her more than she let on, and I couldn't do a thing about it with my current level of knowledge. If only Mum and Dad had been more generous with the manor's library. I didn't want to blame them, so I just pinched my lips and lengthened my stride.

The small blue sign turned out to be nothing, a decorative flag; however, there was a label in neat silver script next to the address label above the door.

 _Rosier Tomes and Artifacts_

I recognized the name after a sinking moment. Evan Rosier. He was a death eater whom Moody had killed near the end of the war with Voldemort. He'd mentioned more than once during my Occlumency lessons. Though part of me was hesitant, the rest of me was itching for a confrontation. My inner chimera stirred in its slumber, waiting to be unchained. I stepped forward, checked for wards or other malicious-feeling magic, and tapped the silver doorknob with my wand, testing it. Nothing dangerous—so far.

"Harry." Olivia tugged at my sleeve. "Do you know who that—"

"Yeah. Let's go in."

"But—"

"He's dead," I said too lightly, catching her stunned eyes, "and we could use some tomes anyway. Did you bring your gold pouch?" I hadn't.

She blinked after a few seconds. "Yeah. Over three hundred Galleons."

"You've saved up that much of your allowance?"

"You've been giving most of yours to Fred and George the last year."

"Maybe I had. It was gold well spent." Their inventions were hilarious and bought me much fun and relief, but that was beyond the point here. We had business. "Alright. We're going in." I swished my wand with a drop of my magic, visualizing my intent. The cloak slipped off us and folded itself into a neat bundle, inside-out, then dropped into Olivia's arms.

Her brows shot up. "That's new. Been practicing that?"

"The wand makes it easier."

She smiled with much vigor. "I see, Mr second coming of Merlin."

I smirked and turned the knob, entering with my magic and sixth sense at the ready for anything.

* * *

 **A/N The previous chapter might one day be reworked so it's longer, more detailed, and flows better. I'm not really up for it at the moment, busy with other projects.**

 **Guest 1: The author note in chapter 10 was referring to the adults not knowing that Olivia overheard and told Harry that Snape was a DE and has a thing for Lily.**

 **Guest 2: I find it thrilling and intriguing to read and write about flawed characters who go down dark paths. If you want a Harry that's rich, sexy, powerful, and mentally-impervious to outside pressures then you'll have to look elsewhere. Mental instability and rationality aren't mutually exclusive either. Harry will grow a bit more unstable eventually but remain rational for the majority of the time.**


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